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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29334411">i want to be alone! no i don't!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/notspring/pseuds/notspring'>notspring</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you're the place i can go [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Friends With Benefits to Exes to Lovers, M/M, Weird Loneliness Journeys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:47:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29334411</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/notspring/pseuds/notspring</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yeah, but that’s, like….” Seungkwan pauses, making a face as he searches for what to say next. “A cry for help,” is what he settles on, and Jeonghan grimaces. </p><p>“I’m not crying for anything,” he says.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Mingyu/Yoon Jeonghan, Xu Ming Hao | The8 &amp; Yoon Jeonghan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you're the place i can go [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. part i</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is part of a series, but you don't need to read any of the other parts! it's only related in that it takes place in the same universe -- the characters and plot are totally separate.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><br/>“Is that everything?” Seungcheol asks, pulling the edge of his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face. Jeonghan doesn’t let himself follow the motion with his eyes.</p><p>“I think so,” he says instead, taking a quick glance around the apartment — it wasn’t much to begin with, and now that it’s full of unopened boxes it looks even worse. Seungcheol had offered to help Jeonghan unpack them, too, but Jeonghan waved him off — he’s too tired to attempt that today. The couch is set up, and that’s all he really needs. </p><p>Seungcheol’s face does something weird, his eyebrows looking even more concerned than usual.</p><p>“Yah,” Jeonghan says suspiciously, squinting at him. “What’s that expression for?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Seungcheol says hastily. “Just. You’re sure this is what you want?”</p><p>Jeonghan stares at him in confusion.</p><p>“What does that mean?” he asks slowly, genuinely thrown by the question.</p><p>“Like, living alone,” Seungcheol clarifies. “You don’t want to find another roommate?”</p><p>Jeonghan wrinkles his nose. Who else would he live with? Joshua moved to L.A. for work, and even if Jeonghan was willing to consider him as a serious option, Seungkwan’s already practically married. Who else is left? A stranger? No. Mingyu? Definitely not. </p><p>“This is fine,” Jeonghan says, instead of telling any of that to Seungcheol. It would just make him even guiltier, probably, and he’s already so stressed he’s the reason Jeonghan has to move in the first place. </p><p>“You’ll take care of yourself, right?” Seungcheol asks, voice too serious for Jeonghan’s liking.</p><p>“Of course,” Jeonghan says lightly, but Seungcheol only frowns harder.</p><p>“Don’t skip any meals,” Seungcheol continues gravely, like he’s giving Jeonghan instructions on how to get to a funeral. </p><p>“Yah, Choi Seungcheol, what’s that face for? I know how to order delivery,” Jeonghan says with a laugh, but Seungcheol doesn’t look soothed at all. </p><p>Jeonghan pulls out all the stops, then, smiling and coming closer so he can punch jokingly at Seungcheol’s arm. Seungcheol whines, predictable as anything, and tries to twitch away from Jeonghan’s pathetic assault. </p><p>“Alright, alright,” he says, finally, once he’s had enough, straightening. His expression looks a little lighter, finally. Jeonghan laughs, drawing back to lean against the doorframe instead. “You’ll really be okay?”</p><p>Jeonghan nods.</p><p>“You go on,” he says, waving Seungcheol towards the door. “I’ll be fine by myself.”</p><p>But as soon as Seungcheol leaves the air in the apartment feels still, too quiet. Jeonghan probably should have expected this, but it’s too late now. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Yoon Jeonghan</b>
  <br/>
  <i>are you busy</i>
  <br/>
  <i>do you want to help build some furniture</i>
  <br/>
  <b>6:23 PM</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kim Mingyu</b>
  <br/>
  <i>kkkk sure..</i>
  <br/>
  <i>what’s your new address</i>
  <br/>
  <i>?</i>
  <br/>
  <b>6:24 PM</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I think I’m going to ask Seokmin out,” Mingyu says a few hours later, stretched out long and golden in Jeonghan’s newly assembled bed.</p><p>For a moment Jeonghan just stares at him, sure he’s heard that wrong. </p><p>“Oh?” he asks, finally, trying not to let anything show on his face. </p><p>“He’s nice, right?” Mingyu asks, like that’s even a question. “I really like him.”</p><p>“He is nice,” Jeonghan echoes, but he feels strange as he says it. There’s no reason for it — Mingyu isn’t his boyfriend, just someone Jeonghan calls when he wants to get fucked and doesn’t want to have to work for it.</p><p>Maybe that’s what the weird feeling in his stomach is about. He’ll lose something convenient, that’s all. Jeonghan will have to come up with a new arrangement, find someone else and train them exactly how he likes. </p><p>Exhausting. </p><p>“If you want to do it, do it,” he says out loud, mostly meaning it. </p><p>Mingyu turns to look at him, a little surprised. </p><p>“Really?” he asks. </p><p>Jeonghan frowns, irritated. What was Mingyu expecting? It’s not like Jeonghan can say “no.” </p><p>“Really,” he says, flicking Mingyu’s bicep. Mingyu flexes it immediately, laughing. Jeonghan rolls his eyes. </p><p>“Okay,” Mingyu says, a little slowly. He’s still looking very closely at Jeonghan’s expression, so Jeonghan fixes a placid smile onto his face. “If you’re sure.”</p><p>“Just don’t break his heart,” Jeonghan adds, an afterthought. “I’d have to kill you.”</p><p>“Deal,” Mingyu says, then lets out a little sigh.</p><p>The strange feeling in Jeonghan’s stomach turns sour.</p><p>“Yah, Kim Mingyu,” Jeonghan bites out. He pinches Mingyu’s ear, relishing in Mingyu’s immediate offended squawk. “Don’t think about someone else when you’re my bed. What kind of man are you?”</p><p>“Sorry, sorry!” Mingyu laughs, easing himself upright. “I’ll get going!”</p><p>That isn’t actually what Jeonghan wanted him to do — it’s barely 10 P.M, and the bed always gets cold after Mingyu leaves — but now he can’t think of a way to stop it from happening. </p><p>Mingyu looks around at Jeonghan’s bedroom as he retrieves his shirt from the floor.</p><p>“When are you going to decorate?” he asks, pulling the shirt on over his head, running his hair to try and fix it — it’s a lost cause, but Jeonghan doesn’t tell him that. “It’s still really empty in here.”</p><p>Jeonghan shrugs, settling back down against the pillow. </p><p>“I’ll get around to it,” he says dismissively, pulling the blanket back up to his chin. Mingyu makes a skeptical little sound.</p><p>“I can help, if you want,” he offers as he reaches for his jeans. Jeonghan makes a face at the idea.</p><p>“It’s fine. Don’t forget your phone,” he says, gesturing vaguely at where it’s lying on the floor. Mingyu makes a startled sound when he notices it, reaching out from where he’s struggling with his jeans to scoop it up, the action making him stumble and crash into Jeonghan’s (also newly assembled) dresser. </p><p>Jeonghan snorts out a laugh.</p><p>“<i>Hyung</i>,” Mingyu whines as he gets his footing, finally zipping up his jeans and looking over, stuffing his phone into his back pocket.</p><p>Jeonghan waves a hand at him, still laughing.</p><p>“Get out, Mingyu-yah,” he says, not unkindly. </p><p>Mingyu leaves, finally, pouting the whole way out, and then the door closes and Jeonghan’s alone. </p><p>It’s just like he expected — the bed is already cold.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“How’s the new place?” his father asks after dinner on Friday night. </p><p>Jeonghan shrugs.</p><p>“It’s fine,” he says, looking up from his phone to meet his eyes. His father nods in quiet acceptance, not asking for anything more.</p><p>“What about work? Anything interesting happening there?”</p><p>“Not really.”</p><p>“What did you say you were doing, again?” Jeonghan’s father asks, brows furrowed together like he’s really thinking about it.</p><p>“Logistics and customer experience,” Jeonghan says smoothly, the exact same line he’s fed everyone who’s asked since he graduated. His dad hums in acknowledgment, clearly not sure what that means — mostly that Jeonghan spends a lot of time on the phone with either customers or the company’s courier service, honestly, but he doesn’t need to bore anyone with the details.</p><p>“And you’re still not seeing anyone?” </p><p>“No.”</p><p>“You’re getting older,” his father comments.</p><p>“Yes,” Jeonghan agrees. His father heaves out a sigh, like even this brief attempt at conversation has exhausted him. </p><p>“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jeonghan’s mother says, entering the living room with a plate of fruit. “Honey, would you lighten up? It feels like a funeral in here.”</p><p>“Yeah, appa,” Jeonghan says. “Lighten up.”</p><p>His father huffs good-naturedly and lets Jeonghan’s mother bully him into silence, taking a single slice of orange and then ignoring the rest of them to read articles on his phone for the rest of the night. </p><p>Jeonghan, meanwhile, steals strawberries off the plate, one by one, as Hyesoo regales him and their mother with horror stories about her most recent client, each more dramatic than the last until until his mother finally shoos them both towards Hyesoo’s room, claiming she needs to clean up the kitchen. </p><p>“You’re really not seeing anyone?” Hyesoo asks later, playing with Jeonghan’s hair as he sprawls out across her bedroom floor. Jeonghan snorts.</p><p>“No,” he says. “Who is there to see?”</p><p>Hyesoo hums, not sounding particularly convinced.</p><p>For a long moment Jeonghan stays silent, making a small noise of distress as Hyesoo starts to get more aggressive with whatever she’s doing to his head — braiding, maybe?</p><p>“You’ve just been seeming very … well rested, lately,” Hyesoo says. Jeonghan makes an offended noise, his entire face scrunching up in distaste at the implication. That’s not — well. It <i>was</i> kind of true, he supposes. It isn’t now. Jeonghan tries to turn his head to look at Hyesoo, but her grip on his hair is too tight. He settles for reaching behind him to pinch her knee, laughing when she swears and twitches away. </p><p>“You’re a menace,” Jeonghan says, meaning it. “And it’s none of your business.”</p><p>“If you say so,” Hyesoo responds, a smug tone to her voice that Jeonghan doesn’t particularly like. “Oppa, you really need to do something about your roots, this is — ”</p><p>“Jeonghan-ah,” his mother interrupts them, flinging the door open without bothering to knock first. “Do you — oh.”</p><p>She stops short as she gets a better look at him, bringing a hand to her mouth to cover a snort. Jeonghan realizes, belatedly, that his scalp is really aching.</p><p>“What did you — ” he cuts himself off, sitting up and reaching for the heart-shaped hand mirror Hyesoo keeps in a cup by her bed. “Wretched child,” he says, delighted, staring at the assortment of childish hair clips currently adorning his head. He doesn’t even know where Hyesoo got them — she’s twenty-four years old. Surely that’s too old to own so many fuzzy pompoms? </p><p>“Did you need something?” Hyesoo asks their mother, ignoring Jeonghan completely. Jeonghan tries to pull one of the clips out and gives up immediately, yelping indignantly at the sting.</p><p>“I was going to ask if Jeonghan needed a ride home,” she says. Jeonghan looks over at her, still rubbing at his tender scalp. </p><p>“It’s fine,” he waves her off with his free hand. “I’ll just go back tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“If you’re sure,” his mother says, clearly torn between polite insistence and the desire to give in to her own exhaustion.</p><p>“I’m sure,” Jeonghan says firmly. “Go on to bed, we’ll be quiet.”</p><p>“Okay,” she says, coming closer to drop a kiss on his forehead. She pauses as she pulls back, frowning. “When was the last time you got your roots done, sweetheart? This is really — ”</p><p>“Yah,” Jeonghan whines, batting her away. “I get it, okay? I’ll go next week.”</p><p>Hyesoo snorts in amusement where she’s settled next to him on the rug, reaching up to accept her own hug when their mother moves in her direction. </p><p>Jeonghan settles onto his back as their mother slips out of the room with a final <i>good night</i>, leaving the two of them alone again. He turns his head to get a better look at Hyesoo. </p><p>“Appa wasn’t wrong, you know,” Hyesoo says, continuing their discussion from earlier. “You are getting older.”</p><p>“Yah, what’s this?” Jeonghan laughs nervously. “I’m twenty-five, not dead.”</p><p>“They won’t care if it’s not a girl, you know,” Hyesoo continues. Jeonghan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath for patience. “I asked.”</p><p>“Hyesoo-yah,” Jeonghan says uneasily. “You didn’t need to do that.”</p><p>Hyesoo just shrugs. </p><p>“It’s good to know, right?” she asks. Jeonghan supposes it is, although it wasn’t really something he was worried about — he knows his parents know about him, and they’ve never said anything about it either way.</p><p>“I guess,” he concedes. “But I’m fine, okay? I’m not missing anything.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Hyesoo says skeptically. “It’s nice to have someone who will do things with you. No one wants to be the one setting by themselves at the café like a loser, you know?”</p><p>“Isn’t that what your friends are for?”</p><p>“Yeah, but then they all get boyfriends,” Hyesoo says, with the deep irritation that comes from personal experience.</p><p>Jeonghan frowns, confused.</p><p>“What about that guy you were seeing? The librarian?” </p><p>“We broke up,” Hyesoo says impatiently, and Jeonghan frowns even harder. When did that happen? </p><p>He makes a noise that falls somewhere in between concern, commiseration, and sympathy — it’s pretty open to interpretation, honestly — and Hyesoo snorts, clearly seeing right through him.</p><p>“Thanks for your support, oppa,” she says dryly.</p><p>“Always,” Jeonghan responds graciously, over-the-top like it’s a joke, trusting Hyesoo will know that it isn’t. Hyesoo hums her acknowledgment before changing the subject to the webtoon she wants him to read instead, a clear ending to their heart-to-heart. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Hyung!” Seokmin shrieks into the phone a few days later, off like a shot the instant Jeonghan accepts his call. “You’ll never believe what happened!”</p><p>Jeonghan winces, both at the volume and the conversation starter — Mingyu must have asked him, then. </p><p>He hums inquisitively, waiting for Seokmin to break the news.</p><p>“I got the call!” Seokmin continues excitedly, and for a moment Jeonghan can only blink in confusion, totally thrown. </p><p>Oh. Right. The new musical — Seokmin’s been waiting to hear back about it, anxious and on-edge for the past week. </p><p>“Yah, Seokmin-ah,” Jeonghan says, recovering quickly. “I told you, didn’t I? Of course you did. Always trust your hyung.”</p><p>Seokmin laughs, sharp like it’s forcing its way out of him, like he can’t hold it in. Jeonghan smiles in return, fond, and listens to Seokmin babble about the schedule, the rehearsals. How excited he is to meet the other cast members. Jeonghan listens carefully to all of it, but Seokmin never mentions Mingyu at all.</p><p>It seems a little weird that he doesn’t bring it up, but what’s Jeonghan supposed to do, ask? Jesus christ. No. Seokmin will tell him when he’s ready, and Jeonghan will try not to think about it until then.  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>At work on Tuesday Jeonghan spends three straight hours on the phone, his jaw aching by the end of it. Sein smiles sympathetically at him when he finally puts the phone down to take his lunch break — two hours late, but who’s counting? </p><p>“You’re working so hard, Jeonghan-ssi,” she comments. Jeonghan smiles thinly at her. He’s so hungry he feels like he’s dying, and the way his neck is aching he knows he won’t be sleeping tonight. </p><p>When Jeonghan took this job he told himself that the benefits — free food, good vacation time, friendly atmosphere — made it worth it, but that’s hard to remember, sometimes.</p><p>“You’re coming to dinner on Friday night, right?” Sein continues, smiling up at him from where she’s still seated. Jeonghan concentrates very hard on keeping his face neutral.</p><p>“Of course,” Jeonghan says, smiling back, but he’s already planning how he can get out of it.</p><p>Wednesday isn’t much better than Tuesday, and by Friday Jeonghan’s so exhausted he doesn’t even have to make an excuse to skip the dinner — Sein sends him home an hour early with a hot pack tucked in his pocket and three Vita 500s from the mini-fridge. </p><p>He sleeps through most of Saturday, honestly, but when he wakes up on Sunday he’s determined to make the most of the rest of his weekend.</p><p>“Seungkwan-ah,” Jeonghan whines into the phone as soon as Seungkwan picks up his call. “What are you doing? I want to see you!”</p><p>“Aish, this hyung,” Seungkwan huffs. “I might be busy, did you ever think of that?”</p><p>Jeonghan frowns. What could Seungkwan possibly be doing that's more important than this? It’s Jeonghan’s only real free day, and he doesn't want to spend it alone.</p><p>“Don't you love me?” he says petulantly, over-the-top so Seungkwan will play along. </p><p>Seungkwan makes a disagreeable little sound into the phone.</p><p>“Why are you being weird?” he asks impatiently. “Did you do something terrible?”</p><p>Jeonghan frowns.</p><p>“I’m not being weird,” he says, offended. What’s weird about wanting to see Seungkwan? They’re friends, aren’t they?</p><p>“Ooooookay,” is Seungkwan’s response. They’re not even on video, but Jeonghan can still tell he’s rolling his eyes. </p><p>“Fine,” Jeonghan says, a little stung by Seungkwan’s rejection but trying not to make it obvious. “I’ll call someone else.”</p><p>“Tell Seokmin I say hi,” Seungkwan says immediately, and Jeonghan frowns even harder. Who says he’s going to call Seokmin? Just for that, he isn’t going to. See what Seungkwan knows.</p><p>Except then he does call Seokmin, and Seokmin doesn’t pick up — he’s busy with the new musical now, Jeonghan remembers. He thinks about calling Seungcheol, but he can’t quite make himself do it. </p><p>It’s fine. He’ll just play Animal Crossing until he’s hungry enough to order delivery. Maybe if he gets restless enough he’ll take a walk. That’s a perfectly fine way to spend a Sunday, Jeonghan decides. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Seungcheol said he’s kind of worried about you,” Joshua says when he calls on Monday night, because he never lets Jeonghan get away with anything. Jeonghan scowls at the screen, irritated. </p><p>“Why would he say that?” he asks. </p><p>“He says you never call him anymore,” Joshua says, and Jeonghan frowns even harder. So what? </p><p>“He can call, too,” Jeonghan points out. “He’s the one with weird hours.”</p><p>Joshua hums, which isn’t the response Jeonghan would hope for. He doesn’t say anything more, waiting for Joshua to continue.</p><p>“Did you, like,” Joshua pauses, a weird constipated expression on his face. Jeonghan narrows his eyes in suspicion.</p><p>“Did I what,” he says slowly.</p><p>“Did you have, like. A thing? For Seungcheol?” </p><p>Jeonghan’s stomach does a sudden free-fall inside his body, the lurch of nausea so immediate and intense that for a moment he thinks he might really throw up. </p><p>“A what?” he laughs uncomfortably, trying to look natural. “Why would you even ask that?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Joshua says, still watching him closely. Jeonghan wishes he could turn the camera off, but it’s too late now — Joshua would know he was trying to hide something. “You guys were so close, and now it’s weird between you.”</p><p>“It’s not weird,” Jeonghan says immediately. They were closer when they were roommates, but they were friends too — are friends. They are friends. </p><p>“It’s okay if you did,” Joshua says, ignoring Jeonghan completely. If he were here in person Jeonghan would pinch him, but he has to settle for an irritated nose wrinkle instead. </p><p>“Well, I <i>didn’t</i>,” Jeonghan says pointedly. “Just because I fuck guys doesn’t mean I’m into every hot guy I know. I’m not that stupid.”</p><p>He means it — he’s always known Seungcheol was off limits, no matter how affectionate he could be. Seungcheol always crawled all over Jeonghan, fawned over him like he was something really special, but it meant something different for Seungcheol than it did for Jeonghan, and that was fine.</p><p>There’s a very pointed pause, and Jeonghan rolls back what he said, wincing when he gets to it. </p><p>“Or every guy,” he corrects, but they both know it’s too late.</p><p>“Okay, well,” Joshua says, a slow skeptical drawl. “Whatever’s going on, you should still call him. He thinks you’re mad at him.”</p><p>“Big baby,” Jeonghan says. There’s no disguising the fondness in his voice, though, and when Joshua hums in agreement he just sounds amused. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Seokmin comes to pick Jeonghan up for dinner the next Sunday — one of his rare days off. He comes all the way up to Jeonghan’s apartment instead of waiting at the front, and Jeonghan lets him in without thinking. Seokmin pauses when he gets his shoes off, a weird expression on his face. </p><p>Jeonghan frowns in confusion.</p><p>“Hyung,” Seokmin says carefully, eyebrows knit together as his eyes dart around the apartment, taking it in. Jeonghan stiffens.</p><p>“What,” he says immediately, defensive. He looks around, trying to see the place through Seokmin’s eyes. Bare walls, bare floor. Boxes still pushed against the wall from when he moved in months ago. A single pillow on the couch because Jeonghan keeps falling asleep in front of the TV. Suddenly it feels imperative that Jeonghan doesn’t let Seokmin see the empty kitchen. “I’m ready anyway, let’s just go,” Jeonghan says, grabbing at Seokmin’s arm, pulling him back towards the door.</p><p>Seokmin lets himself be led out of the building and down to the sidewalk, pliant as always, but there’s still an expression on his face that Jeonghan doesn’t like.</p><p>“You could ask Mingyu to help you decorate,” he says after a moment, sounding hesitant, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “He helped me with my apartment, you know. We went to IKEA.”</p><p>“No,” Jeonghan says immediately, his whole body shuddering at the very thought. The humiliation would kill him, he’s pretty sure. He still doesn’t know what’s going on with Mingyu and Seokmin, and he  doesn’t think he wants to. Neither of them have said anything — well. Seokmin hasn’t said anything, and Jeonghan hasn’t really talked to Mingyu at all, so obviously he hasn’t said anything either.</p><p>Seokmin doesn’t look convinced, though. </p><p>“Hyung,” he says again, his voice very careful. “Is there, like. Something wrong?”</p><p>“No,” Jeonghan says immediately. “What would be wrong? There’s nothing.”</p><p>“Okay,” Seokmin says, still looking nervous, and somehow his acceptance makes Jeonghan feel even worse. </p><p>“Let’s just go eat,” Jeonghan sighs. “You’re paying, right?”</p><p>“Yah, hyung,” Seokmin whines, but his face melts into a laugh when Jeonghan pokes at his side, trying to squirm away and nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. </p><p>“You’re a successful actor! I’m just a lowly office worker! Don’t you care about your poor starving hyung?” </p><p>“Shameless,” Seokmin laughs, then his face changes into something mock serious. He continues with a dramatic shake of his head, putting on an affected voice. “Ah, this hyung … Can’t even pay for his own dinner … I’ll do it, but it’s only this once, alright?”</p><p>Both of them know it won’t be only this once, and they both know Seokmin doesn’t really mind. Jeonghan grins, still clinging to Seokmin’s arm, relieved by his indulgence, and they don’t mention his apartment again. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t always have to come all the way out here, you know,” Hyesoo says on Saturday, looking down at where Jeonghan’s sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor. “I can come visit you instead.”</p><p>Jeonghan snorts. He looks around Hyesoo’s perfectly decorated bedroom — at the fluffy pink rug, and the pastel-coloured stationary organized at her desk. The framed photos of her friends, decorated with stickers and arranged neatly above her bed. He can’t imagine her getting comfortable in his bare living room, so ugly in comparison to Hyesoo’s thoughtful decor. </p><p>“This is fine,” he says. “I like the trip.”</p><p>Hyesoo wrinkles her nose skeptically. </p><p>“If you say so,” she says.</p><p>“Ah, enough about me,” Jeonghan says, waving his hand to clear the idea from the air. “How have you been, huh? My perfect baby sister?”</p><p>Hyesoo doesn’t laugh or give him a cutesy response the way she usually would, just heaves out a sigh as she slumps down further on the bed. Jeonghan narrows his eyes up at her, concerned.</p><p>“Hyesoo-yah? Is something wrong?”</p><p>Hyesoo sighs again, her fingers fidgeting with the pillow she has clutched to her chest. Jeonghan waits patiently. </p><p>“I think I really miss Youngwoon,” she says, finally. She presses her face down into the pillow as she says it, the words coming out muffled. </p><p>“Youngwoon?” Jeonghan asks, confused.</p><p>“My librarian,” Hyesoo clarifies with a pointed eye-roll, pulling her head back up. Her cheeks are flushed, either with embarrassment or upset. “Well. Not mine anymore, I guess.”</p><p>“Ah,” Jeonghan says delicately. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“It’s whatever,” Hyesoo says, waving a hand. It isn’t, obviously, or she wouldn’t be so hesitant to talk about it. “He said I didn’t care enough.”</p><p>Jeonghan makes an understanding noise. </p><p>“I was like, whatever, but….”</p><p>Hyesoo trails off, staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>“But I think I cared a lot, actually,” she says after a long moment. “I think I’m really lonely.”</p><p>“Ah,” Jeonghan says again. The feeling is, unfortunately, familiar. He leans back until he’s lying down on her fluffy rug, letting the material tickle the back of his neck as he leaves the silence open in case Hyesoo wants to say more. </p><p>“It’s just weird now, I guess. I don’t have anyone to buy couple pyjamas with anymore,” Hyesoo says. Jeonghan makes a sympathetic hum in response, even though he’s not sure he really understands. </p><p>“I’ll buy couple pyjamas with you, if you want,” he offers after another pause.</p><p>Hyesoo huffs out a weak laugh.</p><p>“You’re so stupid, oppa,” she says tiredly. “That isn’t the point.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Of course! Of <i>course</i>,” Jeonghan says into the phone, voice perked up as bright as it’ll go. If Seungkwan could see him right now he’d never let it go, probably. He sighs as soon as the call ends, so dramatically it kind of takes the wind out of him, leaning down to rest his forehead on the desk. </p><p>“Whose idea was it to market to upper-middle class moms?” he moans, turning so the wood digs into his cheekbone instead. Sein laughs where she’s siting next to him, reaching out to offer a consoling back pat. </p><p>“They’re where the money is,” she says with a little grimace. “Unfortunately.”</p><p>Jeonghan moans again. </p><p>“Noona,” he whines. “Save me.”</p><p>Sein makes another face. </p><p>“I can order tteokbokki for lunch?” she offers. Jeonghan gives her a thumbs-up without moving. </p><p>The tteokbokki does kind of help, or at least not being hungry helps — Jeonghan makes it through Wednesday, and then Thursday, and then Friday, and he’s even doing well enough that he makes it to the company dinner before he goes home and sprawls out on the couch, drained.</p><p>His phone wakes him up from a sleep so deep he feels vaguely nauseous, bleary and disorientated as he reaches for it, confused. Did he set an alarm? Is it Monday already? </p><p>No, he realizes, blinking to clear his eyes as he squints down at the phone. It’s his ringtone, Seungkwan’s name lighting up the screen. </p><p>Jeonghan’s so out of it that his hands don’t feel like they belong to his body. He fumbles to accept the call, bringing the phone up to his ear and grunting a greeting into the speaker.</p><p>“ … hyung?” Seungkwan sounds confused, which is weird. Usually he just starts talking.</p><p>“Mm?” Jeonghan isn’t sure he can manage words yet, still swimming through the haze of oversleep. </p><p>“Is everything okay?” Seungkwan asks hesitantly. </p><p>Jeonghan opens his mouth to answer and yawns instead, not bothering to muffle it with his hand.</p><p>“ … did you just wake up?” Seungkwan asks. </p><p>“Mm,” Jeonghan says, looking sideways at the black TV screen in front of him as he nestles his head back into the pillow. “What time is it?”</p><p>“It’s 6 P.M,” Seungkwan says slowly.</p><p>“On … Saturday?” Jeonghan asks, just to be sure.</p><p>“Yes,” Seungkwan says. There’s a worried note to his voice Jeonghan isn’t sure he likes. “As opposed to…?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Jeonghan says. He’s so tired he can’t quite orient himself. It feels like the entire conversation is moving a hair too fast for him to catch up. “Sunday?”</p><p>“You thought you slept through an entire day?” Seungkwan asks, voice shrill. </p><p>Jeonghan winces. He thought he slept through two entire days, technically, but that doesn’t seem like something he should tell Seungkwan. </p><p>“No,” he says, sighing. “I don’t know. Maybe?”</p><p>“Oh my god,” Seungkwan says faintly. “What is going on over there? Does this happen a lot? I’m coming over right now.”</p><p><i>That</i> wakes Jeonghan up. </p><p>“Wait,” he says. “Don’t — don’t. You don’t have to. I’ll meet you somewhere. Where are you?”</p><p>There’s a long, suspicious pause.</p><p>“No, I think I need to come over,” Seungkwan says, finally. “What’s your address? Oh my god, I don’t even have your address. Hyung. Oh my god. It isn’t somewhere really weird, is it?”</p><p>Jeonghan feels whatever burst of energy he got before drain right back out of him, shifting onto his back and giving up completely. </p><p>“Please stop,” he sighs. “It’s not somewhere weird. I’ll text you the address.”</p><p>“You said it wasn’t somewhere weird,” Seungkwan hisses when he meets Jeonghan at the building entrance forty-five minutes later. “Hyung. This building is decrepit.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Jeonghan waves him off a little irritably. “Let’s just get coffee, or whatever. Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>Seungkwan narrows his eyes suspiciously, clearly worrying about it, but he lets Jeonghan guide him to a nearby café easily enough. </p><p>“Okay,” Seungkwan says once he’s settled, perched neatly in his chair with his drink in front of him. “What the fuck is up with you?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Jeonghan says immediately. “Why are you being weird?”</p><p>“Why am <i>I</i> being weird?” Seungkwan huffs indignantly. “I’m not the one who didn’t know what day it was.”</p><p>“It’s my weekend,” Jeonghan says mildly, mostly just to mess with him. “I can spend it how I want.”</p><p>“Yeah, but that’s, like….” Seungkwan pauses, making a face as he searches for what to say next. “A cry for help,” is what he settles on, and Jeonghan grimaces. </p><p>“I’m not crying for anything,” he says. “I was tired.”</p><p>“Are you having a crisis or something?” Seungkwan asks, ignoring Jeonghan completely. “Do you need to get laid?”</p><p>Jeonghan grimaces again, trying not to think about the last time he slept with someone, suddenly sure that if he pictures Mingyu in his head Seungkwan will be able to see him too, somehow. </p><p>“Definitely not,” he says. That seems like an awful lot of effort, and anyway, where would he even meet someone? He used to go out, sometimes, before he started hooking up with Mingyu, but now the very idea of going to a club makes him tired just thinking about it. He doesn’t know who he’d even go with — Seungkwan doesn’t really go out anymore, either, now that he has Hansol. Joshua’s gone, now, and Seungcheol’s all the way out in Incheon. Seokmin’s busy with his new show. </p><p>Jeonghan’s the odd one out. </p><p>“Are you sure?” Seungkwan asks, squinting dramatically like he’ll be able to glean everything he wants to know from Jeonghan’s expression alone, if he only looks long enough. “It would be so easy for you, you’re so handsome.”</p><p>Jeonghan preens a little, straightening in his chair.</p><p>“I mean, sure, your laugh is the worst thing I’ve ever heard, and your personality leaves a little to be desired — ” Jeonghan’s smile fades into a scowl “ — but like, some people don’t care about things like that.”</p><p>“No, no. Go back to the part where you were complimenting me, please,” Jeonghan demands, reaching under the table with his foot to kick Seungkwan’s chair. Seungkwan jerks it out of reach immediately, unable to keep a straight face as he does it. </p><p>“Sorry,” he says. “But really, hyung. Do you <i>want</i> to be alone forever?”</p><p>Jeonghan blinks at the bluntness of the question, unsure how he’s supposed to answer it. What a strange thing to ask — of course he doesn’t want to be alone forever. Who does?</p><p>“I don’t mind it,” he says, like it doesn’t matter either way. It’s easier to just not think about it, anyway. He’s busy these days with work. Isn’t that what’s most important? “I’m fine.”</p><p>“Okay, literally just hearing you say that gave me a rash, what the fuck,” Seungkwan says, taking a sip of his drink for dramatic effect. “Since when are you so pathetic?”</p><p>Jeonghan rolls his eyes. </p><p>“I don’t know why I’m even talking to you about this,” he says, sighing deeply like the entire conversation is beneath him, trying to cover his genuine irritation. </p><p>“Because I give great advice, obviously,” Seungkwan huffs.</p><p>Jeonghan, who has neither asked for nor received any advice at any point in the conversation, rolls his eyes again, more pointedly this time.</p><p>“Well, maybe you can give me great advice about something else, instead,” he says drily. Seungkwan rolls his own eyes in response.</p><p>“Like <i>what</i>, hyung,” he says. “You never do anything, what am I supposed to give you advice about?”</p><p>That stings, somehow, more than Jeonghan would have expected it would.</p><p>“Then we don’t need to keep talking,” he says, a little harsher than he means to. He’s usually willing to humour Seungkwan, to play along in the role Seungkwan expects from him — it’s like a little game, and Jeonghan’s always loved games. But today he’s tired, and he doesn’t want to be here, and he isn’t having fun. Jeonghan pushes his chair back to stand up from the table, and Seungkwan’s eyes widen in surprise. </p><p>“Wait,” he says immediately, reaching for Jeonghan and then pulling back immediately, like he isn’t sure if it’s okay for him to touch. “Hyung, wait.”</p><p>Jeonghan pauses where he’s standing, waiting.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Seungkwan says earnestly, his earlier snippy disposition fading completely into something softer, an expression he usually reserves for other people — never for Jeonghan. That’s not who they are. “Hyung, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m really sorry.”</p><p>Jeonghan sits down slowly, not making eye contact as he eases himself back in the chair. </p><p>“Let’s just talk about something else,” he says. When he glances up at Seungkwan he looks uncertain, the expression making him seem younger than usual. He nods. </p><p>“Okay,” he says slowly, his sudden hesitance making Jeonghan feel ill at ease. </p><p>“Yah, Seungkwan-ah, what’s this mood?” he chides lightly, to try to get Seungkwan back to his earlier confidence. </p><p>Seungkwan splutters a little and scowls, his usual put-upon expression returning. He spends two full minutes defending himself and another three faking offence, and Jeonghan smiles at him in relief the entire time. </p><p>After he parts ways with Seungkwan Jeonghan doesn’t go home, wandering vaguely in the direction of the park he likes best instead. He still feels weird and sick from sleeping for too long, plagued by the specific exhaustion that comes from not having done anything to exhaust himself. </p><p>He isn’t sure how long he spends walking along the different paths, trying not to think about Seungkwan said, but before he knows what’s happened it’s gotten dark outside. </p><p>The park is far enough from his apartment that usually Jeonghan takes the bus, but tonight he just keeps walking, like he’ll be fine if he just keeps moving for long enough. </p><p>When he gets home he calls Joshua before he can stop himself, the motions of it so familiar it’s like his body does it without his mind’s permission. </p><p>“Shua-yah,” Jeonghan whines, as soon as Joshua picks up. Technically it’s a video call, but Jeonghan is too lazy to actually hold the phone up, so it’s resting on the pillow next to his head instead. Both of them can get a great view of Jeonghan’s bedroom ceiling, mold stains and all.</p><p>“What,” Joshua laughs, not taking Jeonghan seriously at all. That’s what Jeonghan wants, usually, but it chafes today.</p><p>Everything chafes, lately. It’s like Jeonghan’s lost a layer of skin, leaving him vulnerable. Open, exposed. Even the slightest touch stings.</p><p>“Feel sorry for me,” he says, instead of saying any of that out loud. Joshua would only make fun of him, and Jeonghan would deserve it — it sounds insufferable, ridiculous and overdramatic even in his own head. </p><p>“Why,” Joshua says, voice clear even though he’s an ocean and 12 hours away. </p><p>“Why do I need a reason?” Jeonghan says, dodging the question as best he can. “Isn’t it enough for me to just ask?”</p><p>“Sure,” Joshua says agreeably, and then he doesn’t say anything more, leaving a space wide open for Jeonghan to speak. </p><p>Well. Jeonghan isn’t going to fall for <i>that</i>. He waits, completely silent, staring placidly up at the ceiling, expression carefully calm even though Joshua can’t see it. </p><p>“I can wait just as long as you can,” Joshua says, eventually. Jeonghan scowls.</p><p>“No you can’t,” he says. “It’s three in the morning, you’ll fall asleep.”</p><p>“I’ll call back when I wake up,” Joshua says, voice still calm. He’s always so calm — it’s driven Jeonghan crazy, for as long as he’s known him. That relentless desire to shake the unshakeable. </p><p>“I won’t answer,” Jeonghan counters.</p><p>“I’ll call Seungcheol,” Joshua says. “I’ll make him come back to Seoul to check on you.”</p><p>Jeonghan frowns at the idea. </p><p>“I won’t open the door,” he says, but they both know he’s losing steam. Horrible. He hates conceding defeat.</p><p>“We’ve both seen Seungcheol’s biceps,” Joshua says. “He’ll be like one of those mothers whose baby is stuck under a car, your door won’t stand a chance.”</p><p>Fuck. He’s right. </p><p>“I hate you,” Jeonghan sighs. Joshua laughs, a small warm chuckle. </p><p>“You don’t,” he says kindly. He is, unfortunately, correct.</p><p>“I don't want to talk about it,” Jeonghan concedes, and that’s as much as he’s willing to give.</p><p>“Okay,” Joshua says, like it’s as easy as that. Maybe it is, for him. He’s not the one who feels like they have snakes wriggling around inside their body, nauseating and unsettling, constantly squirming around. </p><p>“I’m hanging up now,” Jeonghan says. “Good talk.”</p><p>Joshua doesn’t try to call back, but he still manages to get the upper hand: Seungcheol shows up at Jeonghan’s apartment on Saturday and doesn’t take no for an answer, dragging Jeonghan to a nearby café and forcing him into a seat like he's a wayward toddler.</p><p>He doesn’t say, specifically, what made him come all the way out to Seoul, but Jeonghan isn’t stupid.</p><p>“How’s Jinhee?” he asks after Seungcheol returns with their drinks, mostly to stave off any inquisitions about his own personal life. </p><p>Seungcheol’s face lights up immediately, predictable as ever. </p><p>Jeonghan listens to him ramble about meeting her parents last weekend and tries to tell himself it doesn’t feel weird, and then he goes home to his quiet apartment and tells himself it doesn’t feel too quiet. </p><p>Goes through the entire week like that, coming home every night and turning on the TV immediately to break the silence  — he finally understands why his mom is always watching evening variety shows, now that he’s gone and Hyesoo’s working.</p><p>He should call her, probably.</p><p>Next weekend.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Seungkwan takes everything personally, so Jeonghan can’t turn down an invitation for dinner two weeks later — he doesn’t really want to, anyway. He’s missed Seungkwan, and it’s not Seungkwan’s fault Jeonghan’s been feeling so weird. </p><p>It’s mostly fine, anyway. Quieter now that Chan and Soonyoung are gone, but Seokmin made it, at least, and he’s loud enough to make up the difference. Jeonghan sticks close to him, clutching at his arm and leaning on his shoulder to give his body something to do. </p><p>But somehow Mingyu still finds him before the night ends, pulling Jeonghan aside on his way back from the bathroom. Jeonghan winces, then tries to pull his face into something more nonchalant.</p><p>“Hyung,” Mingyu says, and then visibly chickens out of following it up with whatever he wants to say.</p><p>“Yes?” Jeonghan asks, both to communicate his impatience and also to help Mingyu along.</p><p>“I wanted to talk to you,” Mingyu says. Well — obviously. They’re not here because <i>Jeonghan</i> had something to say. He nods instead of pointing this out. </p><p>“I just wanted to tell you that Seokmin and I never went out,” Mingyu says, after a moment. He’s clearly embarrassed as he says it — the tips of his ears are bright red. “He said no.”</p><p>Jeonghan pauses, taking that in.</p><p>“Oh?” he says, finally, feigning disinterest as though it doesn’t matter to him at all. </p><p>“We’re still friends,” Mingyu continues. “It’s better this way, I think.”</p><p>“Why are you telling me this,” Jeonghan asks slowly.</p><p>Mingyu shrugs, a careful movement. </p><p>“I thought you might want to know,” he says. Jeonghan frowns. </p><p>Mingyu looks at him for a long moment. </p><p>“Just, like,” Mingyu starts, then pauses as he considers his words again. Jeonghan’s heart rises in his throat as he waits. “I realized it was shitty of me, to ask you about it the way I did.”</p><p>“It was fine,” Jeonghan says blandly, not giving anything away. “It was what you wanted.”</p><p>Mingyu frowns.</p><p>“I wanted you first, though,” he says. “I was just being stupid about it.”</p><p>Jeonghan freezes, staring at him. </p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean,” he says slowly. </p><p>Mingyu shrugs, laughing helplessly.</p><p>“I know it was dumb of me,” he says. Jeonghan stares at him, so taken aback he can’t process the words properly. “You kept saying it wasn’t serious.”</p><p>Jeonghan did say that, he remembers. It <i>wasn’t</i> serious — they went straight from bickering all the time to hooking up every chance they got, nothing in between. They weren’t even really friends first — Jeonghan’s not stupid enough to think that could build a real relationship.</p><p>“It never would have worked,” Jeonghan says, feeling like a different person as he says it. Like he’s watching himself speak. “You didn’t really like me, anyway.”</p><p>Mingyu’s head tilts in confusion.</p><p>“Who said that?” he asks. Jeonghan blinks.</p><p>“Does it matter?” Jeonghan asks. “It’s true.”</p><p>Mingyu’s frowning now, but it doesn’t look like what Jeonghan expected — there’s no petulance to his expression, no childishness. Mingyu looks older than Jeonghan remembered, and genuinely upset. Jeonghan doesn’t know how to handle that. </p><p>“It isn’t,” Mingyu says, finally. “Who told you that? It isn’t.”</p><p>“Oh,” Jeonghan says. He doesn’t have anything to follow it up with, so put off-balance by the entire conversation that he isn’t sure where to go next. </p><p>“But we’re okay now, right?” Mingyu asks, eyes wide and earnest. “I don’t want it to be weird between us. That’s why I told you.”</p><p>Jeonghan nods. He’s pretty sure it would have been better if Mingyu hadn’t said anything at all, but sure. Why not? There’s no reason they can’t be okay. No reason at all. </p><p>“Good,” Mingyu nods firmly, like it’s decided. He gives Jeonghan one more little smile, and then he turns back toward the party.</p><p>Jeonghan stays in the hallway for what feels like a long time, thinking about nothing, and then he makes an excuse to Seungkwan and walks home alone.<br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. part ii</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Mingyu grew up well,” Minghao says decisively, not leaving any room for argument. Jeonghan nods, then, because it’s not like he has a real reason to deny it. What’s between him and Mingyu is — well. It’s not anything that Minghao needs to be concerned about, that’s for sure.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><br/>When Mingyu invites him to a dinner party three weeks later, Jeonghan can’t refuse. He doesn’t want to go, of course, but he doesn’t want Mingyu to <i>know</i> he doesn’t want to go. If Mingyu isn’t bothered Jeonghan can’t be, either — and he <i>isn’t</i>. There’s no reason he would be. </p><p>So Jeonghan goes to Mingyu’s insufferable dinner party, and he listens to the insufferably joyous laughter around him while he fakes an amused smile, and after dinner he squishes in next to Xu Minghao on the couch. </p><p>Jeonghan knows Minghao, of course. Minghao met Mingyu their final year of university, taking some fine arts course or other, and they’ve been nearly inseparable ever since.</p><p>If he’d been asked to guess which of their friends Mingyu would date, his guess would have been Minghao. They always seem so serious together, and there’s something in the tenderness on Minghao’s face when he looks at Mingyu — Jeonghan thought he’d known what that meant.</p><p>No one ever actually asked him, but it still bothers Jeonghan that he didn’t get it right. Minghao seems fine alone, not bothered in the slightest. </p><p>“Myungho-yah,” Jeonghan says, now, smiling when Minghao looks up, startled. He’s cute, Jeonghan’s always thought. Sincere.</p><p>“Hyung,” Minghao smiles up at him, scooting over to make room. </p><p>“You look nice tonight,” Jeonghan says. Minghao blinks at him, seemingly surprised, and then smiles again, a little more hesitantly. </p><p>“You do too, hyung,” he says in his kind voice. </p><p>Jeonghan snorts.</p><p>“You don’t need to butter me up,” he says dryly. </p><p>Minghao laughs, a real one — silly, and a little high-pitched. It’s charming. </p><p>“Would you like me to say you look terrible, instead?” he asks, amused. “Because you don’t.”</p><p>“Oh?” Jeonghan wriggles a little, pleased despite himself. </p><p>“Are you sure you don't want me to butter you up?” Minghao asks, a smile still at the corner of his mouth. “You’re sending mixed signals right now, you know.”</p><p>“Aish,” Jeonghan laughs, delighted that Minghao is playing along with him. “So difficult to please.”</p><p>Minghao just keeps smiling at him, gaze a little heavy. Jeonghan lets his gaze flick around the room and back. </p><p>“Seo Myungho,” he says, leaning in closer like it’s a secret. “Do you want to make an escape with me?”</p><p>Minghao laughs again. He casts his glance around the room — no one else has left yet. Seokmin is telling a story to a delighted audience by the entrance to the kitchen. Usually Jeonghan would be over next to him, but tonight it feels like too much. He wonders if Seokmin has noticed. He wonders if <i>Mingyu</i> has noticed. </p><p>“Maybe in half an hour,” Minghao says kindly. “Let’s not cause a scene.”</p><p>Jeonghan tilts his head, considering. It’s not a shock that Minghao’s so conscientious, but it’s a little surprising that he’s so firm about it. Jeonghan respects it, he decides. He likes to be challenged. </p><p>“Okay,” he agrees. “Wake me up when you’re done being polite, then.”</p><p>He leans his head on Minghao’s shoulder as he says it, a little bold, and is rewarded by a huff of Minghao’s surprised laughter ruffling his hair. </p><p>Jeonghan ends up dozing through his chance at a French exit, blinking awake to find the party winding down, everyone already saying their goodbyes. Minghao helps him up with a soft smile on his face, looking amused as Jeonghan whines about the temperature, the hour, and the length of his walk home, all while making his way towards the door. </p><p>“I think you’ll be okay,” Minghao says dryly as he helps Jeonghan find his coat. </p><p>Outside they hover close to the doorway of Mingyu’s apartment building — Jeonghan needs to go right to catch his bus, Minghao left to walk home.</p><p>“Do you want to come back to mine?” Minghao asks, finally, and Jeonghan feels his face melt into a smile. </p><p>“I thought you’d never ask,” he says, reaching for Minghao’s arm.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In his apartment Minghao kisses carefully, timid but thorough, like he’s trying to figure Jeonghan out. It isn’t something Jeonghan thought he’d like, but it’s nicer than he expected. He likes the attention, likes feeling like he’s special. </p><p>It’s warm but not heated between the two of them, Jeonghan tired at the end of the night and Minghao seemingly hesitant by nature. Jeonghan sighs a little, leaning back and letting Minghao settle over him, his hands resting on Minghao’s hips. </p><p>The mood shifts sharply when Jeonghan’s hands start to work up the back of Minghao’s shirt — Minghao stiffens immediately, freezing in place. His hands clench at Jeonghan’s shoulders, too tightly. </p><p>Jeonghan drops his hands right away, trying to pull back so he isn’t actively touching Minghao anywhere — it’s hard, with Minghao still draped all over him. Minghao doesn’t make any attempts to move, shifting just enough to hide his face in the curve of Jeonghan’s neck. Jeonghan can hear him breathing carefully, can feel it against his skin. </p><p>“Myungho?” Jeonghan whispers, hands still hovering above his back, hesitant to touch. He lets one drop awkwardly to the back of the couch. </p><p>“It’s fine,” Minghao whispers back, voice a little jagged. <i>It doesn’t seem fine</i>, Jeonghan almost says, catching himself just in time. He doesn’t know Minghao well enough to joke, doesn’t know if forced levity would make it better or worse. </p><p>“Okay,” he says quietly, instead, letting Minghao rest there for another moment. “Is this okay?” he asks softly, after some time has passed and Minghao still hasn’t moved, touching a hand to the top of Minghao’s back lightly. Just enough to let Minghao know he’s still there. </p><p>“It’s okay,” Minghao murmurs. Jeonghan gives it a little more pressure, rubbing his hand in gentle circles, humming quietly to soothe. “Sorry,” Minghao adds. </p><p>“Nothing to be sorry for,” Jeonghan says. He keeps his voice light, as though his heart isn’t slamming against his ribs. </p><p>It takes a while for Minghao to finally pull back completely, the two of them shifting on the couch so Jeonghan isn’t underneath him anymore. Jeonghan curls up sideways against the back of the couch, watching Minghao carefully. </p><p>“This isn’t how I wanted this to go,” Minghao says, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. </p><p>“I figured as much,” Jeonghan says, and he’s rewarded with a little snort from Minghao. “Really, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it too much, okay?”</p><p>Minghao moves his hands, making eye contact for the first time since they pulled apart. He stares at Jeonghan, eyes searching. </p><p>“You’re kind,” he says finally. </p><p>It’s Jeonghan’s turn to snort, looking away, eyes glancing over the room before he turns back toward Minghao. </p><p>“I’m not,” he says.</p><p>Minghao shakes his head in disagreement, his throat working as he visibly searches for what to say next. Jeonghan waits for him, not sure what else to do. </p><p>“It’s late,” Minghao says, finally, his voice only a little bit choked. Jeonghan feels weirdly proud of him for managing. “Do you need to crash here? I can take the couch.”</p><p>“Yah,” Jeonghan laughs. “Don’t be silly, Myungho-yah. You sleep in your own bed, I’ll just get a taxi.”</p><p>Minghao nods, but the troubled crease between his eyebrows doesn’t ease up any. He already looked uncomfortable, but it got worse when Jeonghan said he’d leave him alone, not better. It must not be what Jeonghan thought. Surprising — Jeonghan would have thought him the type to lick his wounds in private. </p><p>“It is a long way, though,” he says slowly, watching carefully for Minghao’s reaction. “I could stay on the couch and head back tomorrow morning, instead.”</p><p>Something complicated twists in Minghao’s expression. His eyebrows are still knit together so tightly. Jeonghan smiles at him like it doesn’t matter either way — it doesn’t, he supposes. He doesn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, and Minghao’s couch seems more comfortable than his own. </p><p>“If it’s easier,” Minghao says, finally, which tells Jeonghan everything he needs to know. </p><p>“That’s that, then,” Jeonghan says with another smile, voice final. “Do you have pants I can borrow? I can’t sleep in jeans.”</p><p>Minghao nods seriously, pushing himself to stand up. Jeonghan sprawls out across the rest of the couch in his absence, letting his head fall back against the arm. </p><p>It’s less awkward than Jeonghan would have expected, honestly. In the bathroom he tries splashing his face with water, only to be met with a look of consternation from Minghao where he’s watching from the doorway. Minghao pushes into the bathroom and roots around in the cupboard for a while before silently handing Jeonghan a package of makeup wipes and a spare toothbrush, then slipping back out to the kitchen. </p><p>“I’ll see you in the morning, hyung,” Minghao says before he shuts off the living room light. Jeonghan mumbles out a response, pulling the throw blanket up over his head, asleep before he can register much else. </p><p>In the morning Minghao clearly still feels uncomfortable but Jeonghan ignores it, dragging him out to get coffee together before Jeonghan goes back to his own place to sleep for another three hours. </p><p>His nap is interrupted by the buzz of his phone under his ass, and Jeonghan digs it out with an irritated scowl. </p><p>
  <b>Kim Mingyu</b>
  <br/>
  <i>hyung are you busy today?</i>
  <br/>
  <i>can you meet up to talk</i>
  <br/>
  <b>2:49 PM</b>
</p><p>Jeonghan frowns even harder when he reads the message — no, he’s not busy, obviously. It’s Sunday, and he had plans on Saturday, so that means today he has to spend the entire day recovering. He takes a moment to evaluate himself — he didn’t shower, and he’s still wearing the sweatpants Minghao lent him to sleep in. </p><p>Whatever. Good enough.</p><p>
  <b>Yoon Jeonghan</b>
  <br/>
  <i>ok..</i>
  <br/>
  <i>where?</i>
  <br/>
  <b>2:56 PM</b>
</p><p>Jeonghan takes a weird pride in the way Mingyu eyes him when he walks into the café, clearly not impressed by Jeonghan’s attire. That’s what he gets, Jeonghan thinks, for disturbing his rest.</p><p>They order and sit, and Jeonghan’s too tired to bother with niceties. </p><p>“What did you want to talk about?” he asks bluntly, taking a sip of his americano and wincing. He should have ordered something else. He forgot about the cup with Minghao that morning — he’ll be twitchy all day, now. </p><p>"I saw you at the party with Myungho," Mingyu says, a little crease between his eyebrows. Jeonghan frowns. Why does Mingyu care?</p><p>"So?" he asks, a little belligerently. He doesn't need to explain himself to Mingyu. They don't have that kind of relationship — they never did.</p><p>"I was just surprised, that's all," Mingyu says after a moment. Jeonghan hums, not saying anything more. Mingyu can assume what he will. </p><p>“You’ll be careful with him, won’t you?” Mingyu adds, and Jeonghan frowns. </p><p>“What are you implying?” he asks, annoyed. Mingyu’s mouth purses, eyes flicking away and then back. Jeonghan doesn’t understand why Mingyu’s being so weird about this.</p><p>“Nothing,” Mingyu huffs out, finally, looking frustrated. Jeonghan scowls back. </p><p>“I’m not doing anything weird,” he says. “I like Myungho too, you know.”</p><p>“I didn’t say you were. I don’t think that.”</p><p>“Then what?” Jeonghan asks, laughing a little in frustration.</p><p>“Then nothing,” Mingyu says. He smiles, tiny and quick. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”</p><p>He shouldn’t have, and he shouldn’t have called Jeonghan all the way out here to do it. Jeonghan wants to call him on it, but he’s an adult and he’s supposed to be responsible, so he smiles tightly instead. He’s sure Mingyu can tell he’s full of shit.</p><p>“Forgiven,” Jeonghan says. Mingyu rolls his eyes, breathing out a little laugh. </p><p>“Good,” he says. </p><p>"Was there something else you wanted?" Jeonghan asks, when Mingyu doesn't make any moves to leave. Mingyu frowns, biting his lip. </p><p>"No," he says, finally, then his expression clears in a way that seems deliberate. "It was good talking to you, hyung.”</p><p>“You too,” Jeonghan says, not really meaning it. Couldn’t Mingyu have just texted? </p><p>“You’ll come next time, right?” Mingyu asks as he gathers his coat. Jeonghan nods as he pushes himself to a stand. </p><p>“Of course,” he says, regretting the words almost as soon as he’s said them. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t really expect to hear from Minghao again, honestly — Minghao was clearly upset by what happened, and that isn’t the type of experience a person usually wants to revisit. </p><p>But Minghao messages him a few days later, Jeonghan’s phone buzzing with an invitation for dinner just as he’s getting on the train to go home from work.</p><p>Usually Jeonghan would refuse — he hates having plans on work nights — but he doesn’t want to say no to Minghao, and he supposes it isn’t so different to eat dinner at Minghao’s place instead of his own.</p><p>Minghao orders Thai and doesn’t mention the reason Jeonghan’s there until after they’re finished eating — Jeonghan watches, fascinated, as he rinses out the takeout containers and stacks them neatly for recycling. </p><p>"Mingyu asked about you, you know,” Minghao says, finally, coming back into the living room only to immediately splay himself out across the rug. He looks pretty comfortable — it's a very nice rug. Expensive, probably. </p><p>“Did he?” Jeonghan asks from the couch, feigning indifference and missing by a hair. Minghao raises an eyebrow up at him, clearly not falling for it.</p><p>Jeonghan sighs.</p><p>“He asked me about you too,” he admits. “I think he tried to give me the shovel talk.”</p><p>Minghao winces, looking embarrassed, and looks away for a long moment. </p><p>“Is there a reason for that, or does he just think I’m a terrible person?” Jeonghan asks, craning his neck to try and get a better look at Minghao’s face. </p><p>Minghao shrugs.</p><p>“When I first met Mingyu I was seeing someone else,” he says after another long moment, still looking away. </p><p>That catches Jeonghan’s attention — he tilts his head, making an encouraging noise so Minghao will continue. </p><p>“That person wasn’t … kind,” Minghao says slowly, clearly weighing each word. Jeonghan’s smile fades at the serious look on Minghao’s face, at the words coming out of his mouth. “Mingyu helped me a lot, back then.”</p><p>“I’m glad,” Jeonghan says quietly, meaning it. </p><p>“We fought about everything,” Minghao continues, laughing a little. “I was so angry all the time. But he helped me anyway, and I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”</p><p>“You’re different now,” Jeonghan says, nudging Minghao’s elbow with his foot. “You don’t seem so angry anymore.”</p><p>“I am different,” Minghao says quietly. “He is, too.”</p><p>Jeonghan wrinkles his nose.</p><p>“I guess,” he says.</p><p>“He grew up well,” Minghao says decisively, not leaving any room for argument. Jeonghan nods, then, because it’s not like he has a real reason to deny it. What’s between him and Mingyu is — well. It’s not anything that Minghao needs to be concerned about, that’s for sure. </p><p>“I’m still sorry about how I acted,” Minghao says, a glass and a half later. He’s making eye contact with Jeonghan as he says it, but his ears are flushed a dull red, his fingers fidgeting with the plush of the rug. “Last time, I mean,” he adds, as though it wasn’t obvious. </p><p>“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Jeonghan says, meaning it. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”</p><p>“Still,” Minghao says. “I’m embarrassed.”</p><p>“Don’t be.” Jeonghan waves a dismissive hand, like he can clear Minghao’s thoughts himself.</p><p>It doesn’t work — Minghao still looks miserable, his whole face scrunched up with it. Jeonghan hesitates for a moment, unsure whether to drop it or push further, before he makes a decision.</p><p>“Does that happen a lot?” he asks finally, watching closely for Minghao’s reaction. Minghao shrugs.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he says with a wry twist of his mouth. “It was the first time I’d tried since….”</p><p>Oof. Minghao trails off, and Jeonghan winces in sympathy. </p><p>“We could try again,” he offers, the words out of his mouth before he really has time to consider their weight. Minghao freezes, staring at him, cautious curiosity blooming on his face.</p><p>“What does that mean?” Minghao asks slowly. </p><p>Jeonghan shrugs, deliberately easygoing. </p><p>“I don’t mind trying again,” he says, which doesn’t really explain much. He honestly isn’t sure what, exactly, he’s offering, but he’s sure as he says it that the offer is sincere. Jeonghan likes Minghao, feels comfortable around him. Why not? “Maybe that would make it easier. Trying with the same person.”</p><p>Minghao is still staring at Jeonghan like he doesn’t know what to make of him, so Jeonghan keeps a steady expression on his face. </p><p>“I don’t want your pity,” Minghao says, a warning in his voice. </p><p>“It isn’t that,” Jeonghan says honestly. </p><p>“Then what’s in it for you?” Minghao asks. </p><p>Jeonghan shrugs, not letting himself think about it too deeply. </p><p>“Mingyu’s told you about me already,” is what Jeonghan says instead of trying. “You know I don’t do anything unless I can get something from it.”</p><p>Minghao frowns. </p><p>“Mingyu didn't say that,” he says. “And it wouldn’t matter if he did. I can decide for myself.”</p><p>It’s almost sweet, the defiant set to his jaw — he clearly means it. Jeonghan smiles.</p><p>“Maybe that’s it, then.”</p><p>“Okay,” Minghao says slowly. “If you’re okay with it, I guess we could try.”</p><p>“You’re the one who has to be okay with it,” Jeonghan says.</p><p>“No,” Minghao says immediately, voice sharp. “Both of us. It has to be both of us.”</p><p>“Okay,” Jeonghan says, straightening a little to show Minghao he’s serious. “I am, then. I promise.”</p><p>“Okay,” Minghao says, voice gaining confidence. He pauses, squinting at Jeonghan’s posture on the couch. “Now?” he asks, looking a little skeptical.</p><p>“Sure,” Jeonghan shrugs. “Why not?”</p><p>He slides down off the couch, maneuvering himself until he’s lying next to Minghao on the rug. He must look ridiculous as he does it — Minghao laughs at him, high and charmed, and Jeonghan grins in response. </p><p>“I think you have to start,” Jeonghan says, after Minghao’s giggles have faded into something more serious. Minghao nods, biting his bottom lip, and then leans in.</p><p>It’s probably weird, Jeonghan thinks. All of this is weird. But it feels nice to be close to someone, even like this. </p><p>Minghao kisses the way Jeonghan remembers from last time, but this time Jeonghan is more careful, letting him lead, trying to match his energy. It’s the strangest kiss he’s ever shared with another person — not awkward but purposeful, deliberately resisting the urge to give in to the feeling. </p><p>Minghao pulls back after a moment. </p><p>“Was that okay?” he says, and Jeonghan nods.</p><p>“I’d tell you if it wasn’t.” </p><p>Minghao nods, a determined expression on his face, and leans back in. </p><p>“Can I — ” he murmurs after a moment, his hands hovering at the edge of Jeonghan’s shirt. Jeonghan nods, wiggling a little to help get the message across. Minghao huffs out a laugh before slipping one hand up the back of Jeonghan’s shirt, warm against the skin of his back.</p><p>It’s — nice. Jeonghan told himself he was doing this for Minghao, but he’s never been particularly good at lying to himself. To others, sure. But not to himself. It feels good to be held. </p><p>“Should I?” he asks quietly, pulling back just enough to get a glimpse of Minghao’s expression. Minghao takes in a breath and lets it out, slow, before nodding cautiously. Jeonghan takes a deep breath of his own. It feels like an operation, like getting ready to make the first cut. He tries not to let his hands shake. </p><p>Minghao startles when Jeonghan’s hand comes to rest on his waist. Jeonghan wrenches it back in alarm, but Minghao only huffs out a laugh. “Sorry,” he mutters, reaching for Jeonghan’s hand to put it where it was before. “I’m just — ” </p><p>“It’s alright,” Jeonghan says. They’re still tangled on the carpet, Jeonghan’s leg slung over Minghao’s at the ankle, enough space in between them so Minghao won’t feel pinned. Jeonghan tries again like that, kissing Minghao to distract him as he lets his hand drift up to grip his waist, under his shirt. Minghao breathes through it, clearly concentrating, not really kissing back so much as letting himself be kissed. </p><p>But he doesn’t flinch, and he doesn’t pull away. Jeonghan feels that same pride from earlier return. <i>Look at you</i>, he wants to say. <i>You’re doing so well</i>.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Your vibes are weird,” Hyesoo declares loudly after dinner, coming closer so she can peer at Jeonghan like he’s under examination. Jeonghan lets her do it, laughing. “Also you need to exfoliate,” she announces, pulling back.</p><p>“Sure, sure,” Jeonghan says placatingly. He has absolutely no intention of doing so, and he can tell from the way Hyesoo rolls her eyes at him that she knows. </p><p>“Really, though,” she says after a moment, reaching across him to steal some candy off of the end table, shoving a piece into her mouth immediately. “What is up with you?” she asks, a little garbled.</p><p>“Nothing,” Jeonghan says immediately. “I’m the same I’ve always been.”</p><p>“You’re definitely not, but okay,” Hyesoo says. </p><p>“Maybe I’m growing as a person,” Jeonghan offers. </p><p>“That’s not it,” Hyesoo snorts. Jeonghan tenses a little, waiting, but she just shrugs easily. “Whatever. Can I do your nails?”</p><p>“Sure,” Jeonghan laughs, his shoulders relaxing. “Whatever you want.”</p><p>“You’re gonna regret that,” Hyesoo warns, but Jeonghan only laughs harder. He knows he won’t. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><i>Cute,</i> Minghao says when he sees Hyesoo’s work the next night, stroking a careful finger over the tiny rabbits she drew for him. Jeonghan laughs in delight. </p><p>“Next time she can do one for you, too,” he says. Minghao tilts his head a little, questioning, but when Jeonghan asks what's the matter he just shakes it off, giving Jeonghan’s hand a comforting squeeze.</p><p>Minghao takes him to a rabbit café two weeks later, laughing when they all run away from him, taking a picture of Jeonghan’s scowling face before he intervenes, holding one up so Jeonghan can carefully stroke its head. </p><p>“I should get one,” Jeonghan says on the walk home. Minghao raises his eyebrows, but before he can say anything Jeonghan laughs. “I’m only kidding, don’t worry.”</p><p>“Why would I be worried?” Minghao asks. Jeonghan pauses.</p><p>“Because it’s me,” he says, not sure what else there is to explain. “I can’t take care of anything.”</p><p>“Bunnies are a lot of work,” Minghao says. Jeonghan nods in agreement, but then he keeps going. “I think you could do it, though,” Minghao adds. Jeonghan laughs in disbelief, but his smile fades when he realizes Minghao’s serious.</p><p>“Oh,” he says, unsure how else to respond.</p><p>Minghao just smiles and takes his hand, guides him home through the twilight. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><i>Kind,</i> Minghao murmurs, when Jeonghan sits with him all night, all the lights in his apartment switched on. Jeonghan shrugs it off, pressing closer into Minghao’s warmth.</p><p>“It’s nothing,” Jeonghan says, the way he always does. Minghao laughs, the way he always does, pained and raw. </p><p>“Mingyu used to have to do this with me when I was staying with him,” Minghao says, the words spilling out of him slowly. Jeonghan twists to get a better look at him.</p><p>“You lived with Mingyu?” he asks, surprised.</p><p>“For a month,” Minghao responds. “After.”</p><p>He doesn’t clarify anything more than that, and Jeonghan doesn’t push. He’s not stupid. He can put enough pieces together. </p><p>He wonders when it happened. Was it going on when he and Mingyu were still sleeping together? Mingyu never mentioned anything either way, but of course he wouldn’t have. It wasn’t Jeonghan’s business. </p><p>It makes him feel — something. Silly, eager, earnest Mingyu, taking care of Minghao like that. Jeonghan hadn’t known he had it in him, but maybe he should have. For all their bickering Mingyu was always careful with Jeonghan, too, when it mattered.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><i>Stupid</i>, Minghao says fondly, when Jeonghan stands up too quickly and smacks his head on the freezer door, complaining loudly and hysterically until Minghao kisses it better, laughing at him as he does it. </p><p>“You’re as bad as Mingyu,” he says. “A pair of fools, the two of you.”</p><p>“Stop,” Jeonghan whines, laughter leaking into it. “Take that back.”</p><p>“Nope,” Minghao says, tapping Jeonghan’s nose with an elegant finger. Jeonghan wrinkles his whole face up in response and Minghao laughs, a fondness in his expression that warms Jeonghan up from the inside. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I feel like this should be weirder,” Jeonghan says, pulling his shirt over his head as Minghao switches the living room lamp back on. Minghao laughs a little.</p><p>“This isn’t weird enough for you?” he asks, a joking hint in his voice. Jeonghan laughs, too, waving a hand.</p><p>“You know what I mean,” he says, slumping back onto the couch. “It’s just not what I expected I’d be doing after work, that’s all. Coming out here twice a week for — ” he pauses, searching for the word “— practice.”</p><p>Jeonghan hesitates after he says it, worried he’s said it wrong or made a joke where he shouldn’t, but Minghao only laughs again. </p><p>“You don’t always have to come all the way out here,” he points out. “We can go to your place, too.”</p><p>Jeonghan grimaces immediately.</p><p>“Nope,” he says, but that only makes Minghao narrow his eyes, curiosity clearly piqued — rookie mistake. </p><p>“What’s wrong with your place?” Minghao asks slowly, eyes probing Jeonghan’s face for his reaction. </p><p>“Nothing,” Jeonghan says. “It’s just not ready for visitors.”</p><p>Minghao doesn’t look convinced. </p><p>“It’s ugly,” Jeonghan adds. “Very ugly. You’d hate it.”</p><p>“I could help you,” Minghao says, which Jeonghan probably should have expected. He makes a face, trapped.</p><p>“You really don’t have to,” he tries, but Minghao shakes his head, mind clearly already made up. </p><p>“I do,” he says firmly. “How’s next Saturday?”</p><p>So next Saturday Jeonghan reluctantly lets Minghao into his building, trying not to look too closely at anything in the stairwell as they both walk up to the third floor. </p><p>“This is terrible,” Minghao says flatly once he’s inside, not bothering to hide his disdain as he looks around the apartment. “We have to fix it.”</p><p>“Yah,” Jeonghan replies, a little insulted just on principle. It isn’t like Minghao’s wrong — the apartment <i>is</i> terrible. Jeonghan knows it’s bad. But it’s always different to hear it from someone else. </p><p>“How long have you been living here?” Minghao asks.</p><p>“A few months,” Jeonghan says absentmindedly. Minghao’s moved into the kitchen, now. Jeonghan watches with vague trepidation as he opens and closes cupboards, not totally sure what he’s going to find in there. </p><p>Minghao’s apartment is beautiful. Even Jeonghan can see it, and he’s been reliably informed by multiple parties that he has no eye for décor. In comparison Jeonghan’s looks even worse — bare, undecorated. It’s not even <i>clean</i>.</p><p>“What do you eat?” Minghao asks, rooting through a cabinet Jeonghan knows for a fact doesn’t contain anything edible. </p><p>“Delivery,” Jeonghan says, and Minghao snorts. “I get food from work, too,” he adds, in vague self-defence. </p><p>Minghao wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion.</p><p>“Don’t you work for a baby food company?”</p><p>“Yes,” Jeonghan says, not seeing his point. “It’s organic.” </p><p>“Alright,” Minghao mutters, judgment clear in his tone. Jeonghan makes a face at him. </p><p>After a moment Minghao stops what he’s doing, carefully closing the cupboard below the sink and turning to look at Jeonghan carefully. Jeonghan arranges a neutral expression onto his face.</p><p>“Hyung,” Minghao says slowly. “Do you like living here?”</p><p>Jeonghan pauses, taken aback.</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, confused. What kind of question is that?</p><p>“That’s not an answer,” Minghao says, not letting Jeonghan off the hook. “Do you want to live here?”</p><p>Jeonghan stays frozen, caught, unsure what he’s supposed to say. He’s honestly never thought about it before — this is his apartment, so he lives here. What does it matter if he likes it or not? He signed the lease. </p><p>Minghao just stares at him, eyes searching, until Jeonghan laughs nervously and looks away. </p><p>“Hyung,” Minghao says delicately. “Why did you really start helping me? You never said.”</p><p>Jeonghan stifles the urge to laugh again.</p><p>“Sure I did,” he says, but Minghao only frowns, not accepting it for a moment. Jeonghan wishes he wasn’t so honest — it makes it so hard for Jeonghan to lie to him. “I wanted to,” he tries, then, but Minghao doesn’t look convinced by that either.</p><p>“Why?” Minghao asks again, leaning forward. </p><p>Jeonghan looks away, uncomfortable, his heart hammering against his ribs. He doesn’t understand why this is making him so anxious. It’s just a question, isn’t it? He doesn’t even have to answer. He could just tell Minghao to leave it alone.</p><p>But — no. He can’t do that. He knows he can’t do that. </p><p>He says nothing instead, presses his dry lips together.</p><p>Minghao sighs in response, an impatient exhale that makes Jeonghan feel like shit.  </p><p>“Was it because you were alone?”</p><p>Jeonghan freezes at the sudden question, pinned.</p><p>“Why do people keep asking me that?”</p><p>Minghao stares at him, one eyebrow raised, like the question isn’t even worth responding to. It probably isn’t, Jeonghan realizes, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. </p><p>“I know someone who’s looking for a roommate,” Minghao says abruptly, apparently tired of entertaining Jeonghan’s bullshit. “Do you want me to give him your name?”</p><p>Jeonghan blinks at him in confusion, thrown even more off-balance by the sudden subject change.</p><p>“Yah,” he says nervously. “Why would you do that? I signed a lease, I can’t just move.”</p><p>Minghao wrinkles his nose in disagreement. </p><p>“They’ll let you break it if you want out,” he says, sounding very sure of himself. “I passed at least three building code violations on the way in. They’re not gonna push it.”</p><p>Jeonghan frowns — it sounds pretty bad, when Minghao says it like that. </p><p>He gives himself a moment to think about it. Remembers how much easier it was when he lived with Seungcheol. When he came home to find the light on at night, the floor already warm. </p><p>“Okay,” he says slowly, the words dragged out of him. “I’ll meet your friend. But no promises.”</p><p>Minghao smiles, a tiny quirk of his mouth. </p><p>“Alright,” he says. “I’ll let Junhui know.”</p><p>Jeonghan nods, still a little unsteady and unsure how to regain his footing. Minghao watches him for a long moment, gaze assessing.</p><p>“And hyung,” he says slowly, voice very careful. “I don’t think you should help me … like that. Anymore. I don’t know if it’s good for you.”</p><p>Jeonghan stiffens, letting that wash over him. </p><p><i>How would you know what’s good for me?</i> he wants to ask, the response rising up so quickly it’s all he can do to force it back. He can’t be that cruel to Minghao. Maybe he’s right, anyway — maybe Jeonghan thought he was helping, but really he was the one being helped. How humiliating. </p><p>Well it’s no good to let himself panic about something he can’t change, anyway. Jeonghan’s always known that much, at least. </p><p>It’s better to go along with it, he decides. What else is there for him to do?</p><p>“Alright, Myungho-yah,” he says, with feigned ease, tacking on a smile to sell it. He hides his hands in his back pocket so Minghao won’t see them tremble. “If that’s what you think.”</p><p>Minghao smiles in response, a real one, but it doesn’t last long — he gets a better look at the inside of Jeonghan’s sink and the smile fades into disgust almost immediately.</p><p>“You can’t pull this shit when you have a roommate, alright?” he says seriously, exiting the kitchen and dragging Jeonghan along with him. “Honestly, hyung. Does your mom know you live like this?”</p><p>Jeonghan laughs, shaky but real — obviously not. If Jeonghan’s mother set foot in this apartment it’d probably kill her — she’d wanted to come, when Jeonghan first moved in, had wanted to throw him a housewarming party. He’d convinced her not to with the excuse that this place was only temporary. Probably that should have been a sign, if Jeonghan had let himself think about it at all. </p><p>He hadn’t, clearly.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“How are things with you?” Sein asks on Monday, after Jeonghan has nodded his way politely through her recap of her own weekend.</p><p>“Well, I’m moving out of my apartment,” Jeonghan says, so he doesn’t say anything about the rest of it. </p><p>Sein blinks, obviously shocked that he responded at all. Jeonghan supposes that’s fair — he never tells her anything about his own life. Sometimes he updates her on the spider that lives outside his bathroom window, when it starts to feel rude that he isn’t contributing enough to their conversations. </p><p>“Oh,” she says, clearly trying to come up with what to say next. “Did something … happen?”</p><p>“No,” Jeonghan says. “My friend said it’s disgusting and I can’t live there anymore.”</p><p>Sein grimaces.</p><p>“Oof,” she says. “Will you still be living alone?”</p><p>“No,” Jeonghan responds again, voice purposefully bland. “I’m moving in with a friend of a friend.”</p><p>“Ah.” </p><p>Sein hesitates, then adds, very carefully, “I know that it might seem like we have certain values here, but everyone’s really very open-minded, you know.”</p><p>“Oh god,” Jeonghan blurts out, alarmed. Sein lets out a bark of laughter at his response, bringing up one hand to cover her mouth and waving the other frantically.</p><p>“We don’t have to talk about it,” she laughs. “I just want you to feel comfortable, that’s all. I know you’re a little outside the demographic, here, but your presence here is important to us.”</p><p>Jeonghan blinks, taken aback at her seriousness.</p><p>“That’s very kind of you,” he manages, trying not to school his expression into something less pained. “But he really is just my roommate.”</p><p>In all the months they’ve worked together, Jeonghan’s pretty sure this is the most he’s ever shared with her. Do people really talk about themselves this much all the time? Surely not. It’s barely been five minutes, and he already feels like he’s getting indigestion. </p><p>“Well, I’m happy for you either way,” Sein says, nodding firmly. “Now. Did you eat breakfast this morning, or are you going to be comatose by lunch again?”</p><p>Jeonghan scowls at her in mock-offence, fishing the bread he’d stopped at the bakery for out of his bag and waving it at her in response. Sein gives him a thumbs up before returning to her desk. </p><p>Settling in his own seat, Jeonghan takes an enormous bite of bread and gets to work. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, I don’t know why you couldn’t get Mingyu to help you with this,” Seungkwan huffs on moving day, pausing to wipe at his sweaty forehead and grimacing.</p><p>“Why do I need Mingyu?” Jeonghan asks from where he’s been leaning against the wall for the past five minutes, resting. Seungkwan narrows his eyes suspiciously. </p><p>“Have you even moved since the last time I was up here?” he asks. </p><p>“I was just catching my breath,” Jeonghan responds. Seungkwan huffs out another sigh.</p><p>“This hyung,” he says, mostly to himself. “Get that box,” he says to Jeonghan, watching to make sure Jeonghan actually does it. “And don’t fall down the stairs!” he calls as Jeonghan makes his way towards the apartment door. Jeonghan snorts out a laugh, but he’s careful in the stairwell, just in case. </p><p>“Who is this guy you’re moving in with, anyway?” Seungkwan asks once they’re both settled in the back of a taxi. Hansol is taking his parents’ car separately with all Jeonghan’s stuff, so it’s just the two of them, some suitcases, and Seungkwan’s never-ending curiosity — he’s even turned in his seat a little so he can focus on Jeonghan more clearly. </p><p>Seungkwan’s been trying to interrogate Jeonghan about it ever since Jeonghan told him he was moving and so far Jeonghan’s successfully avoided him, but now there’s no getting away from the conversation without exiting a moving vehicle. </p><p>“He’s a friend of Myungho’s,” Jeonghan says with a shrug.</p><p>“And who is Myungho?” Seungkwan asks immediately, a suspicious expression overtaking his face.</p><p>“You know Myungho,” Jeonghan says, frowning in confusion. How can Seungkwan not know Minghao? He knows Mingyu, so he has to know Minghao. “Mingyu’s art friend?”</p><p>Seungkwan frowns, clearly thinking really hard.</p><p>“Oh!” he says, finally. “The tall skinny one? I didn’t know you were friends.”</p><p>“We started hanging out,” Jeonghan says, purposefully vague. Seungkwan squints at him closely, clearly trying to get more from Jeonghan’s expression. Jeonghan doesn’t give him the satisfaction, smiling blandly at him instead.</p><p>“Well,” Seungkwan says after a moment. “He seems nice.”</p><p>“He is,” Jeonghan agrees. </p><p>The rest of the day goes more smoothly than Jeonghan expected, honestly. Junhui isn’t home, which aggravates Seungkwan, but he’s left careful space for Jeonghan and the empty room is clean, which is a much better reception than he got the last time he moved.</p><p>Jeonghan orders delivery for Seungkwan and Hansol as a thank you and the three of them eat it silently, too exhausted for small talk. </p><p>It’s still silent when they leave, but it doesn’t feel lonely the way Jeonghan had gotten used to — the air purifier is running, Junhui’s things scattered across the living room reminding Jeonghan that he isn’t its only occupant. </p><p>Jeonghan curls up in his own bed for the first time in months, sleeps so soundly he doesn’t even hear when Junhui comes home.<br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. part iii</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“You can’t be jealous of things that aren’t yours,” Mingyu says carefully, watching for Jeonghan’s reaction.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><br/>“Hyung,” Minghao says as soon as Jeonghan answers, in his familiar soft voice. “Are you busy?”</p><p>“Hm?” Jeonghan takes a look around the living room, where he hasn’t moved from the couch yet and has been planning to spend the rest of the day. “No. Why?”</p><p>“Come take a walk with me,” Minghao says. “I want to go to the botanical garden.”</p><p>“Now?” Jeonghan asks. He probably needs to wash his hair for the botanical garden. </p><p>“I thought maybe we could leave in an hour,” Minghao says. Jeonghan can hear him smiling as he says it, like he knows exactly what Jeonghan was thinking. He knows Jeonghan so well, now.</p><p>“Alright, then,” Jeonghan agrees. He’s not really any good at saying no to Minghao — he wonders if Minghao knows that, too. </p><p>The trails are nice — Jeonghan likes walking, and he likes being with Minghao. It’s just that he hadn’t expected Minghao to call him. He hadn’t realized they could still do things like this. </p><p>“You seem worried,” Minghao comments. Jeonghan laughs nervously.</p><p>“Why would I be worried?” he asks, just to be contrary. Minghao raises an eyebrow, not buying it.</p><p>“I don’t know, why would you?” he counters. Jeonghan scowls, caught, and Minghao laughs. Jeonghan wrinkles his nose.</p><p>“I can’t just enjoy the scenery, hm? I can’t do that?” </p><p>Minghao laughs even harder at that, obviously not fooled in the slightest, and nudges Jeonghan’s elbow a little with his. Emboldened by the gesture, Jeonghan slips his arm through Minghao’s. Minghao lets him, not seeming bothered at all.</p><p>“Is this okay?” Jeonghan asks after a quiet moment, the two of them still walking arm-in-arm. </p><p>“Is what okay?” Minghao asks, looking over at Jeonghan with a confused expression.</p><p>“This,” Jeonghan says, squeezing Minghao’s arm with his own to draw attention to where they’re touching. He tries not to let any discomfort show on his face — it makes him feel stupid to ask, but he needs to know. Minghao’s always been the one to set the boundaries between them. </p><p>“Of course,” Minghao says, still looking confused. “Why wouldn’t it be?”</p><p>Jeonghan shrugs uncertainly, not sure he likes the searching way Minghao is looking at him.</p><p>“Hyung,” Minghao says, coming to a stop and bringing Jeonghan along with him, dragged back where their arms are linked. “We’re friends, aren’t we? You’ll always be my friend,” Minghao says, his voice very serious. </p><p>Jeonghan tries not to flush, looking away and nodding with another awkward laugh. Minghao squeezes his arm again, companionable, and starts to walk again.</p><p>“How’s it going with Junhui?” Minghao asks after a moment. It’s a clear attempt at a diversion, and Jeonghan appreciates the kindness. </p><p>“It’s good,” Jeonghan answers honestly. Junhui’s a little awkward but he’s polite enough, and when he makes dinner he makes enough for two. He texts Jeonghan to tell him it’s ready every time — it’s touching, and more thoughtful than Jeonghan expected. </p><p>“I’m glad,” Minghao says with a smile. “You should invite me over again some time. I want to see both of you.”</p><p>“Okay,” Jeonghan says easily. “I’m looking forward to it,” he adds, and finds he really means it. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“So can I finally come visit now, or are you still living in mystery?” Hyesoo asks, her face bright through the phone screen. “The fact that you’re video calling me for once seems like a good sign.”</p><p>Jeonghan snorts out a laugh.</p><p>“I’m living in a place with no cockroaches, so feel free,” he says.</p><p>“Ew, oppa,” Hyesoo cringes, her whole face crinkling up with exaggerated disgust. “What is wrong with you?”</p><p>“Nothing, anymore,” Jeonghan says, laughing again at the look of judgment on Hyesoo’s face. It smoothes out into something a little more serious as he watches, and Hyesoo bites her lip, clearly thinking.</p><p>“Well, as long as it’s all good now, I guess,” she says, finally. </p><p>“It is,” Jeonghan agrees. </p><p>“You’re still single though, right?” </p><p>“Please stop asking me that,” Jeonghan says pleasantly, and now it’s Hyesoo’s turn to snort. “I don’t ask <i>you</i>.”</p><p>“Fine, fine,” she laughs. “I’ll stop, I swear.”</p><p>Jeonghan fakes a salute at her, keeping a straight face even as Hyesoo giggles through her own in return. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>On Friday evening, Jeonghan collapses face-first on the couch after work with a dramatic whine.</p><p>Junhui makes a questioning sound from the kitchen, pausing where he’s been wrestling for dominance over a square of saran wrap — Jeonghan isn’t actually sure what Junhui does for a living, but he works weird hours, is always home first.</p><p>“Everything good?” he asks when Jeonghan just whines harder into the couch cushions instead of saying anything, kicking his feet a little for emphasis. </p><p>“Product recall,” Jeonghan moans, finally, shifting to his back so he can stare lifelessly at the ceiling, one arm dropping down to the floor for dramatic emphasis. </p><p>“Which one?” Junhui asks, doing an impressive job at feigning interest.</p><p>“All carrot-sweet potato units manufactured between December 20th and January 7th,” Jeonghan recites lifelessly. After the day he’s had, just saying the words out loud is enough to send a shiver down his spine.</p><p>Junhui hums thoughtfully. There’s a pause, and Jeonghan hears him open the fridge door for a moment, then close it again.</p><p>“Looks like we’ve got a few in here,” he reports. Jeonghan makes another wordless despairing sound. </p><p>“ … I’ll get rid of those now, then,” Junhui says, and Jeonghan lets his wail taper off into a noise of acknowledgment.</p><p>He lets Junhui’s soup soothe — or rather, sweat out — some of his stress, crawling into bed as soon as the dishes are washed and thanking whoever’s listening that he doesn’t have to monitor the phones over the weekend. Maybe when he goes back to the office on Monday, by some miracle, the young mothers of South Korea will have already forgotten all about the carrot-sweet potato incident. </p><p>The buzzing of his phone wakes him before he’s even fallen asleep. Jeonghan squints at the screen in confusion, a little peeved, as he swipes to unlock it. </p><p><b>Seo Myungho</b><br/>[Location Attached]<br/>[Go to the spot | Route Search]<br/><b>11:17 PM</b></p><p>
  <b>Seo Myungho</b>
  <br/>
  <i>can you come?</i>
  <br/>
  <b>11:17 PM</b>
</p><p>The message from Minghao is unexpected enough to be concerning and Jeonghan stares at it for a moment, his irritation fading into something closer to panic, before he types out a hasty reply and kicks his way out from under the blanket, grabbing a sweatshirt on his way out of his room. </p><p>The location Minghao’s sent him is a bar not too far from his apartment. Jeonghan doesn’t know what to expect when he slips in the door, trying to be inconspicuous in his sweatpants and slides, but when he finally spots Minghao he looks — fine. It’s a little weird for him to be drinking alone in a bar, definitely, but he doesn’t look out of control. His eyes are clear enough when Jeonghan comes over to him, at least. </p><p>“Yah, Myungho-yah. What’s all this about?” Jeonghan asks, feigning lightness as he slides in next to him. </p><p>“It’s nothing,” Minghao mutters, clearly embarrassed, pushing the glass in front of him away as he turns toward Jeonghan. “Let’s just go, come on.”</p><p>Jeonghan stares at him for a moment, assessing, before nodding slowly.</p><p>“Alright,” he says, sliding right back out so Minghao can squeeze his way around him to pay.</p><p>They quietly make their way out to the sidewalk, Jeonghan pulling out his phone to call for a taxi. </p><p>He’s trying to figure out a delicate way to ask Minghao what happened when they’re interrupted by someone calling Minghao’s name, both of their heads turning toward the sound in unison. </p><p>It’s Mingyu — he looks flustered, cheeks flushed and hair in disarray, socked feet stuffed into a pair of slides like he ran out in a hurry. </p><p>Jeonghan glances over at Minghao, confused — did he call both of them? But Minghao looks just as confused, his eyebrows knit together and his mouth dropped open just slightly. </p><p>“Mingyu?” Minghao asks, when Mingyu comes to a stop in front of him. Mingyu reaches out a hand and falters, the awkwardness of the situation clearly catching up with him. He clears his throat, drawing his hand back to run it through his hair instead.</p><p>“Are you okay?” he asks. Minghao frowns, still looking lost.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he says. “Hyung’s here. How did you — ”</p><p>Mingyu blinks, looking over at Jeonghan, seeming to register his presence for the first time. He falters even more, his earlier determination visibly fading. </p><p>“Jungah called me,” he says weakly. “She thought maybe it was like — before.”</p><p>Minghao makes a face, mouth twisting in embarrassment.</p><p>“It wasn’t,” he mutters, glancing back towards the door of the bar. “She didn’t have to do that.”</p><p>“She was just worried,” Mingyu says carefully. Jeonghan feels like he’s intruding, hearing something he shouldn’t. He clears his throat awkwardly, and they both turn to look at him. </p><p>“Taxi’s coming,” he says uselessly, and Minghao nods in acknowledgment before turning towards Mingyu.</p><p>“Do you want to come back with us?” </p><p>Jeonghan blinks, surprised. Mingyu looks startled, too, and his eyes flick over to Jeonghan before he focuses back on Minghao. </p><p>“If that’s okay,” he says slowly. </p><p>When the taxi comes Minghao claims the front seat immediately, leaving the backseat for Mingyu and Jeonghan. Mingyu holds the door open for Jeonghan, letting him slide across the seats before he follows, clumsily folding himself in. The backseat seems much smaller once Mingyu is inside, his long legs bent up awkwardly to fit. </p><p>After a moment Jeonghan glances at Mingyu’s feet, then his own. Mingyu catches him looking and follows Jeonghan’s gaze with a curious expression, huffing out a laugh when he gets it. They’re dressed the same — sweatpants, slides, socks pulled up high — both of them clearly dropped everything to drag themselves out when they got the message. </p><p>“Nice pants,” Mingyu comments, and Jeonghan laughs, too. </p><p>“You should have grabbed your hat,” he says. Mingyu reaches up to touch at his head, his eyebrows knit together. Jeonghan laughs again, taking pity on him, and reaches up to fix it for him as best as he can.</p><p>“Thanks,” Mingyu says quietly.</p><p>“Of course,” Jeonghan says. </p><p>At Minghao’s apartment building they both follow him in, his twin silent shadows. Minghao doesn’t acknowledge them, but if he’s bothered by their presence he doesn’t say anything, holding the door of his apartment open after he punches in the code so Jeonghan and Mingyu can follow him in.</p><p>After they’ve all toed off their shoes and shuffled into the living room, Minghao pauses, looking over at the both of them.</p><p>“I want to go to bed,” he says plainly. Jeonghan doesn’t push — Minghao looks exhausted, something fragile in the set of his mouth. Mingyu makes a little sound of acknowledgment behind him, clearly sensing it too. </p><p>“You go on,” Jeonghan says. Minghao doesn’t even ask what either of them are planning on doing, just nods and slips into his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. </p><p>Jeonghan turns to Mingyu, then, not sure what happens next. </p><p>“Are you going to stay with him?” Mingyu asks, voice soft and hesitant. </p><p>Jeonghan nods, not even pausing to think about it. Mingyu bites his lip, considering. </p><p>“I don’t — ” Mingyu huffs out out an embarrassed laugh, looking away. “It would make me feel better if I stayed, too.”</p><p>“Alright,” Jeonghan says with a shrug. He’s probably not going to sleep much, anyway, so it’s not like it matters whether Mingyu’s snoring next to him or not. “I’m taking the couch, though,” he adds, because he isn’t willing to concede that. </p><p>“Of course you are,” Mingyu says. He punctuates it with an eye-roll, but the way his mouth twists into a little smile after he says it gives him away. “Sorry,” he adds after a moment, for no reason Jeonghan can think of. “I don’t mean to intrude, I know you two are….” Mingyu gestures vaguely, and Jeonghan stares at him.</p><p>“You’re not intruding,” Jeonghan says slowly. “We’re not anything. We’re friends.”</p><p>Mingyu makes a little noise of disagreement. </p><p>“If we were something else, do you really think I’d be crashing on the couch right now?” Jeonghan points out, and Mingyu pauses to consider that, a serious wrinkle between his brows.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re like,” he says, finally, and Jeonghan scoffs.</p><p>“Of course you do,” he says.</p><p>Mingyu pauses, a funny expression on his face, before he lets out a rueful laugh.</p><p>“Alright,” he concedes, stretching out on the floor with a sigh. Jeonghan takes pity on him, throwing down an extra throw pillow before he curls up on the couch. </p><p>“There’s an extra blanket in the hall closet if you need it,” he says, eyes already closed. </p><p>“I know,” Mingyu says, after another pause. Jeonghan hums in acknowledgment, already mostly asleep. He doesn’t stay awake long enough to see if Mingyu gets up for the blanket or not. </p><p>He wakes up to the sounds of Minghao getting ready, blinking his eyes open to find him creeping past Jeonghan towards the kitchen. </p><p>“Sorry,” Minghao whispers, wincing when he realizes Jeonghan’s awake. Jeonghan shakes his head, yawning so violently his jaw cracks with the force of it. </p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. He squints at Minghao, trying to get a good look at him. “You okay?” </p><p>Minghao makes a little noise in his throat, one shoulder coming up towards his ear.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he says. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”</p><p>Jeonghan pats around the couch to find his phone, then looks back up at Minghao.</p><p>“Well, tough shit, because the gang’s all here,” he says, kicking lightly at Mingyu’s shoulder as he says it. Mingyu snorts and rolls over, undisturbed, his mouth dropped open in sleep. He never got the blanket — Jeonghan sighs, reaching for the one he kicked aside in the night and dropping it onto Mingyu’s prone body. </p><p>Minghao breathes out a fond laugh. </p><p>“You might be spared, though,” Jeonghan says, stretching his arms over his head. “It’ll be at least another forty-five minutes before he’s up for real. Plenty of time to escape.”</p><p>He heaves himself up off the couch, finally, and when he looks up Minghao’s staring at him curiously.</p><p>“What,” Jeonghan says, reaching up to touch at his face in concern. “Did I sleep weird?”</p><p>“How do you know how Mingyu wakes up?” Minghao asks slowly, eyes narrowing. Jeonghan freezes. </p><p>“Ah,” he laughs nervously. “What’s that look for? We’re friends, right? Friends know things like that.”</p><p>Minghao doesn’t look convinced. </p><p>“Do they?” he says skeptically. Jeonghan shrugs, picking his way around Mingyu to come stand closer to him. </p><p>“Want to leave him here and go get coffee?” he asks, not giving any more of an answer than he has to. Minghao’s eyes are still narrowed in suspicion but he nods, slowly, and Jeonghan tries not to let his relief show on his face. </p><p>“Brush your teeth first,” Minghao says. Jeonghan lets out a hushed little laugh as Minghao rolls his eyes and pushes him towards the bathroom. “I’ll wait by the door.”</p><p>Mingyu’s finally awake when they get back, sitting up on the floor and blinking blearily up at them. </p><p>“Where did you go?” he grumbles, yawning and rubbing at one eye. His hair is a mess, sticking up in tufts all over his head. It’s a familiar sight, and Jeonghan isn’t sure how that makes him feel.</p><p>Minghao holds up his coffee in silent response. Mingyu pouts immediately, predictable as ever.</p><p>“You went without me?” he whines, huffing a little for effect.</p><p>“You should have woken up in time,” Jeonghan counters. “It’s noon.”</p><p>Mingyu scowls but recovers quickly, patting the next to him on the rug and gesturing for them to come sit. Jeonghan watches to see Minghao’s reaction — he looks uncomfortable but he moves forward easily enough, perching on the edge of the couch so one of his knees knocks against Mingyu’s shoulder.</p><p>Jeonghan makes a split-second decision, watching them, and collapses to sprawl down on the rug by Mingyu’s feet.</p><p>“I’m sorry for worrying you guys,” Minghao says dully after a moment. “It really wasn’t a big deal.”</p><p>Mingyu makes little sound of disagreement, but Jeonghan raises his voice to cover it.</p><p>“It’s okay, Myungho-yah,” he says, elbowing Mingyu’s shin to shut him up. “I’m glad you called.”</p><p>“I’m glad, too,” Mingyu says after a moment. “You can call us whenever, okay?”</p><p>Jeonghan blinks, a little surprised at being included in Mingyu’s “us,” but the sentiment is true enough, so he nods in agreement anyway. </p><p>“Whenever,” he agrees firmly. When he looks up Mingyu’s smiling down at him, an expression Jeonghan doesn’t recognize on his face. Jeonghan blushes, looking away. </p><p>Weird.</p><p>Minghao kicks them out not long after that, claiming he needs a nap, and Jeonghan walks with Mingyu towards the subway station.</p><p>“Hyung,” Mingyu says after a moment, a little cautious. Jeonghan hums for him to continue. “I’m sorry for before,” Mingyu says. Jeonghan tilts his head, curious.</p><p>“Sorry for what?”</p><p>“When you started hanging out with Myungho,” Mingyu clarifies.</p><p>“Ah,” Jeonghan says, nodding in understanding. “Well. You didn’t know.”</p><p>“Still,” Mingyu says, a little crease forming between his brows. “I should have trusted you.”</p><p>“I don’t know if I would have trusted me either,” Jeonghan says. It’s uncharacteristically vulnerable of him, with Mingyu — he’ll blame it on the weird night they’ve both had, he decides.</p><p>“I can tell you really care about him,” Mingyu says, then, a little insistent. “I’m glad he has you.”</p><p>The sentiment is too sincere — Jeonghan doesn’t really know what to do with it. Doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond.</p><p>“I’m glad he has you, too,” is what he settles on, finally. </p><p>Mingyu’s smile is small but earnest. He reaches out to clap Jeonghan on the shoulder, squeezing a little before he lets go — they’re at the subway station, Jeonghan realizes.</p><p>“I’ll see you,” Mingyu says as Jeonghan climbs the steps to go inside, giving Jeonghan one last wave as before he keeps on walking. </p><p>Jeonghan tries not to think about it too hard on the trip home, which isn’t too difficult — he’s so exhausted that he almost falls asleep standing up, barely gets off the train at his stop. </p><p>“Everything good?” Junhui asks from the living room, when Jeonghan finally makes it into the apartment. Jeonghan hesitates, then comes over to flop down next to him on the couch.</p><p>He doesn’t say anything, but Junhui nods in understanding anyway. </p><p>“Want to watch?” he asks, gesturing at the TV in front of them. Jeonghan looks over at the screen — it’s a Chinese drama, no subs. Something historical.</p><p>“Sure,” Jeonghan says, curling up a little to try and get comfortable. “You’ll have to fill me in, though,” he says around a yawn. “My Mandarin’s a little rusty.”</p><p>Junhui laughs — they both know Jeonghan’s Mandarin is limited to “thank you” and “I love you,” both pronounced extremely poorly. </p><p>“Alright,” he says easily. </p><p>Junhui’s pretty good at the voices, actually, and Jeonghan lets the sound of his narration lull him in into a doze. When he wakes up his cheek is pillowed on Junhui’s knee, a music show playing softly on the TV. </p><p>“Sorry,” he mutters. Junhui looks down from his phone — it’s a weird angle for him, to be honest. He looks kind of like an alien.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” he says, shrugging. “You looked tired.”</p><p>Jeonghan pushes himself to sit upright, wincing at the stretch. </p><p>“How’s Minghao?” Junhui asks, still looking at his phone, and Jeonghan pauses mid-yawn. </p><p>“He’s okay,” he says carefully, watching Junhui for his reaction. Junhui nods, finally looking up. </p><p>“You can be honest,” he says, direct as always.</p><p>“I am,” Jeonghan says, meaning it. “He’s going to be okay.”</p><p>Junhui nods.</p><p>“That’s good,” he says. “He doesn’t talk to me about those kind of things,” he adds, voice matter-of-fact. “I’m glad he has you.”</p><p>First Mingyu, now Junhui. It’s kind of an alarming sentiment, honestly — Jeonghan doesn’t really feel like Minghao’s wellbeing is something he should be trusted with, but now that he’s got it there’s nothing to do but treat it as carefully as he can. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He’s surprised when Mingyu messages him the next weekend wanting to hang out, but maybe he shouldn’t be — Mingyu’s more persistent than Jeonghan, takes things like apologies more seriously. </p><p>Takes friendships more seriously too, maybe, but Jeonghan’s trying to be better about that. </p><p>Whatever.</p><p>He puts on real jeans to meet Mingyu and everything, hoping Mingyu can see the olive branch for what it is, and he’s rewarded by Mingyu’s eyes raking up and down his body when they meet. A pleased shiver runs through him in response, and he gestures for Mingyu to lead the way.</p><p>“This is nice,” Mingyu says, later, both of them ducked under one of the tents that line the street close to his place, handing Jeonghan the fish cake he bought for him. Jeonghan takes it with a pleased hum, standing close to Mingyu to try to borrow his warmth. </p><p>“Aren’t you gonna eat?” he asks, chewing, when Mingyu doesn’t make any moves to start on his own food. </p><p>“Oh,” Mingyu says, startled, blinking a few times like he’s coming back to himself. “Right.”</p><p>Jeonghan smiles, watching him take an absentminded bite. It takes him two tries to reach his mouth. </p><p>Stupid.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He ends up at Minghao’s a few weeks after that, both of them crashed on the couch after watching two of Minghao’s arthouse movies in a row. Jeonghan slept through most of them, but woke up just in time for the last sex scene. It was … enlightening, Jeonghan supposes, if a little impractical.</p><p>“I can’t sit in here all night, too. Do you want to go play badminton?” he asks once Minghao’s switched the TV off, stretching as he pushes himself to sit up. Minghao’s entire face scrunches up in distaste.</p><p>“Absolutely not,” he says immediately. “Call Mingyu.”</p><p>Jeonghan hesitates, but — why not? He and Mingyu are friends, right?</p><p>“He’s probably busy,” Jeonghan says, digging in the couch cushions for his phone. Minghao silently points to where it’s lying on the floor and Jeonghan winks at him in thanks, leaning down to snatch it up. </p><p>
  <b>Yoon Jeonghan</b>
  <br/>
  <i>minggoo-yah……….</i>
  <br/>
  <i>what are you doing</i>
  <br/>
  <i>let’s play badminton</i>
  <br/>
  <b>9:33 PM</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kim Mingyu</b>
  <br/>
  <i>kk out of nowhere……..</i>
  <br/>
  <i>where does hyung want to meet~</i>
  <br/>
  <b>9:35 PM</b>
</p><p>“Oh,” Jeonghan says, staring at the phone in surprise. He looks up to find Minghao making a weird expression. “What’s that look for?” Jeonghan asks, suspicious. Minghao just smiles, weirdly knowing, and waves a dismissive hand.</p><p>“Nothing,” he says. “Go on.”</p><p>“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? You can be my cheerleader,” Jeonghan offers, reaching for his sweatshirt to pull it over his head.</p><p>“Your cheerleader? Who says I wouldn’t be Mingyu’s, instead?”</p><p>Jeonghan pauses, affronted.</p><p>“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he says, finally, nose tilted in the air. “I want to preserve our loving friendship.”</p><p>“Sure, sure,” Minghao laughs, waving at Jeonghan as he makes his way to the door.</p><p>When Mingyu meets him at the park he’s wearing sweatpants but his hair is styled, one perfect lock falling onto his forehead in a way that has to be intentional. Jeonghan squints, pulling him under one of the lamps to get a closer look at him. </p><p>“Are you wearing makeup?” he asks. Mingyu whines, giving Jeonghan a playful little shove.</p><p>“I was out with friends!” he laughs defensively, and Jeonghan pauses. Huh.</p><p>“Did you ditch them to come see me?” </p><p>“We were basically done,” Mingyu shrugs.  </p><p>Jeonghan feels something weird and satisfied bloom in his chest at the response, warm and secure. He smiles, throwing Mingyu his racquet. Mingyu fumbles it, of course. Jeonghan’s smile grows wider. </p><p>Mingyu really isn’t very good at badminton, but when it’s just the two of them it doesn’t matter much — Jeonghan likes playing just to play, too. It’s fun to watch Mingyu get flustered. </p><p>The park is empty by the time they pack it up, Mingyu whining that it’s creepy while Jeonghan cackles in delight. But maybe Mingyu had the right idea, because when Jeonghan turns to stand back up, a noise from the bushes startles him, and he stumbles, foot catching on a rock. He sits back down with a sharp gasp.</p><p>Mingyu’s hovering over him immediately, eyes wide and concerned.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Jeonghan laughs weakly, but Mingyu doesn’t look convinced. </p><p>“Can you make it home like that?” he asks, squatting down to lift Jeonghan’s foot, prodding at his ankle. Jeonghan twitches and pulls it back. Mingyu inspects him for a moment, still down in a squat, before he shuffles around so his back is facing Jeonghan instead.</p><p>“What are you doing,” Jeonghan says, narrowing his eyes even though Mingyu can’t actually see him.</p><p>“Get on,” Mingyu says. When Jeonghan doesn’t make any immediate moves he looks over his shoulder, huffing impatiently. “Hyung. Come on.”</p><p>Well. Jeonghan isn’t sure he actually needs it, but he’d be stupid to pass up a chance to get carried home — it’s late and he’s tired, and he’s very delicate, actually. He shuffles forward to attach himself to Mingyu’s back like a limpet, trying not to make an impressed noise when Mingyu lifts him easily, grabbing their racquets on the way up. </p><p>“Wow,” Jeonghan says quietly, shifting to grip Mingyu’s hips with his knees, and Mingyu flexes his biceps in response. Ugh. Disgusting. Jeonghan leans his face into Mingyu’s neck just to mess with him, smiling when he feels Mingyu shiver against his skin.</p><p>“Remember when we first met? In that marketing class?” </p><p>The words come out easily as they make their way down the sidewalk towards Jeonghan’s apartment. Mingyu snorts, adjusting his grip on Jeonghan’s thighs.</p><p>“You hated me so much,” Jeonghan continues.</p><p>“You were always slapping my ass and laughing at everything I said!” Mingyu laughs. “I thought you were just making fun of me.”</p><p>“Why would I make fun of you? You were hot,” Jeonghan says, glad Mingyu can’t see his face as he says it.</p><p>“You make fun of everyone,” Mingyu points out, which. Okay. That’s fair. “And I didn’t know you thought I was hot. I thought you were like, doing some weird straight guy thing. I don’t know.”</p><p>Jeonghan narrowly avoids choking on his own spit.</p><p>“You thought I was straight?”</p><p>“I mean,” Mingyu says slowly. “Yeah?”</p><p>Jeonghan pauses for a moment to take that in.</p><p>“No one thought I was straight in university,” he says, almost to himself. He wonders about it, sometimes — would he have started messing around with guys if it hadn’t been what everyone expected from him? Jeonghan guesses it doesn’t matter, really. He ended up here either way. </p><p>Mingyu makes a skeptical little noise. </p><p>“What, because you were pretty? Only straight guys think being pretty means a guy is gay.” </p><p>Jeonghan frowns, letting that sink in. It kind of explains a lot, actually. </p><p>“Oh,” he says. “Well. I wasn’t.”</p><p>“Yeah, I got that,” Mingyu says dryly. Jeonghan digs his uninjured heel into Mingyu’s shin as retaliation, cackling when Mingyu yelps immediately. “You’re the worst,” he whines, but his hold on Jeonghan’s legs stays firm.</p><p>He doesn’t complain the whole way back, not even when he has to contort himself to let Jeonghan key in the building code to let them in. It’s got to be a record for him — Mingyu whines about everything. Jeonghan lets himself feel a little bit warm about it. </p><p>The apartment is dark and quiet as they make their awkward way inside, Jeonghan kicking the door closed behind them with a little too much force. </p><p>“Moon Jun?” he calls, just to be sure, but the apartment only gapes silently in response. </p><p>Mingyu bypasses the living room at Jeonghan’s instruction, deposits him carefully on the edge of his bed before dropping down next to him with a little <i>oof</i>. Jeonghan stays still as Mingyu eases his shoes off, hands careful with a gentleness at odds with his size. </p><p>“So what’s your diagnosis, doctor?” Jeonghan asks, just the slightest bit coy, as Mingyu inspects his ankle, prodding it for swelling. He grins, pleased, at the way the corner of Mingyu’s mouth twitches up.</p><p>“I think you’ll live,” Mingyu says, a real smile breaking through. He’s still holding Jeonghan’s foot, his grip warm and solid, one thumb rubbing absently at Jeonghan’s ankle like he’s forgotten it’s there. Jeonghan doesn’t want to move, in case it reminds him.</p><p>“Well, thank god for that,” he says with a smile.</p><p>Mingyu snorts and looks away, but even in the low light Jeonghan can see the flush at the back of his neck.</p><p>“Your new place looks better,” Mingyu says, a transparent attempt at a diversion. Jeonghan humours him.</p><p>“Thanks,” he says pleasantly. “Myungho helped us.”</p><p>Mingyu’s smile turns startlingly genuine.</p><p>“That’s nice,” he says, looking like he really means it. “He did a good job.”</p><p>Jeonghan thinks about teasing him more, whining a little to put Mingyu on the spot — <i>What about me? Didn’t I do a good job, too?</i> </p><p>But that isn’t what he wants. He twitches his foot instead, just the barest movement. Mingyu startles and looks down, letting Jeonghan go as soon as he realizes he’s still holding him. Jeonghan smiles, and uses his new freedom to scoot closer.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Mingyu asks Jeonghan’s mouth, eyes focused so intently that Jeonghan might make fun of him for it, if he didn’t feel the exact same urgency, thrumming in his veins and making it hard to keep his thoughts straight. </p><p>“What does it look like,” he breathes. His eyes flutter shut as he closes the distance between them.</p><p>Mingyu’s mouth slides open against Jeonghan’s right away, muscle memory clearly taking over as his hands come to grip Jeonghan’s waist — firm, the way he knows he likes. Mingyu knows all the things he likes.</p><p>“This isn’t a good idea,” Mingyu says between kisses, pulling back just far enough to get the words out. Jeonghan frowns, but Mingyu continues before he has a chance to protest. “Your ankle….”</p><p>“My ankle is fine,” Jeonghan says, meaning it. He doesn’t even really feel it anymore, hasn’t since before they got back to the apartment. Maybe he was playing it up at little for the attention — what of it? He’s pretty sure Mingyu doesn’t mind. “I’ll just elevate it, if I have to.”</p><p>He pulls back enough that Mingyu can see his eyebrows raise as he says it, read the innuendo. Mingyu snorts, clearly unimpressed.</p><p>“You’re not flexible enough for that,” he says immediately. Jeonghan frowns, a little offended.</p><p>“I could be,” he protests. It’s hard to keep a serious expression in the face of Mingyu’s amused skepticism, though, so Jeonghan gives up fighting his laugh. The smile Mingyu gives him in response feels like a reward.</p><p>“Whatever you say,” Mingyu breathes, and Jeonghan leans in again. </p><p>Mingyu really does know all the things he likes. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In the morning Mingyu makes breakfast, humming quietly in the kitchen as Jeonghan slumps on the couch, watching him. </p><p>“I don’t usually do things like this,” Jeonghan says as Mingyu whisks the eggs, eyes on the sure movement of his hands.</p><p>Mingyu pauses, eyeing him skeptically.</p><p>“Things like what?” </p><p>Jeonghan shrugs.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he says. “Whatever this is.”</p><p>“That’s not an answer,” Mingyu laughs, setting the bowl down and turning towards Jeonghan, hip resting against the counter. </p><p>Jeonghan doesn’t know how to explain it any further. He started the conversation but he doesn’t know how to finish it — it’s an uncomfortable feeling, one he’s not really used to.</p><p>“Things like what?” Mingyu asks again, a little more seriously this time. “Like caring about people? Things like trying?”</p><p>“That’s not what I said,” Jeonghan says immediately, already stiffening in offence. “Don’t be difficult on purpose.”</p><p>“I’m not,” Mingyu laughs incredulously. “I’m just trying to understand.”</p><p>“There’s nothing to understand,” Jeonghan says.</p><p>“What did you mean, then?” Mingyu presses, leaving the kitchen and coming into the living room instead. He perches on the edge of the coffee table — Jeonghan winces, hoping it can take the weight — and leans in. “Tell me.”</p><p>It’s hard to look at him from this close; his expression is so earnest. Jeonghan tries to turn away but Mingyu catches him, tilts his chin back with two fingers. “Hyung. What did you mean?”</p><p>“I don’t give enough,” Jeonghan says, finally. “I’m too selfish, I need too much. I get jealous.”</p><p>It sounds ridiculous out loud — childish, and small. Jeonghan doesn’t even know if he really means it. </p><p>“Getting jealous doesn’t have to be a bad thing, hyung,” Mingyu says, just as Jeonghan’s considering breaking Mingyu’s hold, pushing him away. Mingyu would let him go, Jeonghan knows. He’s strong, but he doesn’t use it like that. He wouldn’t hold Jeonghan somewhere he didn’t want to be. “I like it.”</p><p>“Yah,” Jeonghan sighs, exhausted. “Don’t be weird.”</p><p>“No, I mean it!” Mingyu laughs. “It’s flattering.”</p><p>Jeonghan makes a face. Typical.</p><p>“Your ego is unbearable, did you know that?”</p><p>Mingyu doesn’t even bat an eyelash. He just grins, looking entirely too satisfied with himself. </p><p>“And the rest of it?” Jeonghan says before he can stop himself, desperate for Mingyu’s verdict and afraid of it in equal measure. Jeonghan hasn’t felt opened up for judgment like this in a long, long time. </p><p>Mingyu shrugs.</p><p>“You give plenty,” he says, and then he winks. Jeonghan scoffs, disgusted, but he feels lighter too. Grateful, that Mingyu gave them the easy out.</p><p>He lets his heart rate even out, taking deep breaths as Mingyu watches.  </p><p>“I want to ask you something,” Mingyu says, after another moment, still looking at him carefully. “You can say no. If that’s the answer, just say no, okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” Jeonghan says warily, not liking where this is headed.</p><p>“If I said I wanted to try it for real, are you capable of that?” Mingyu asks bluntly. Jeonghan stares, taken aback.</p><p>“Yah,” he says, laughing nervously. “What kind of question is that?”</p><p>“You said you’d answer,” Mingyu says, ignoring Jeonghan’s attempt to stall. “Hyung. Are you?”</p><p>Jeonghan opens his mouth to retort, then closes it again. Is he?</p><p>“I don’t … know,” he says, hesitantly. </p><p>“Will you think about it, at least?” Mingyu asks. Jeonghan pauses for a moment, considering, and then nods. </p><p>“I will,” he says.</p><p>“Okay,” Mingyu says, nodding as he stands up. “Thank you.”</p><p>It’s a stupid thing to thank Jeonghan for, he thinks, watching as Mingyu goes back to the kitchen to turn on the stove. It’s stupid of Mingyu to still want to stay. </p><p>Jeonghan doesn’t want him to leave. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Let’s play a game!” Seungkwan says, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. He’s working hard to make it seem spontaneous, but Jeonghan knows him — it’s his birthday party, there’s no way he didn’t plan this weeks in advance. </p><p>Everyone murmurs agreeably, letting themselves be urged into a circle, the coffee table pushed out of the way so they can all fit, looking curiously at Seungkwan for more instructions. </p><p>Jeonghan finds himself sitting between Minghao and Mingyu and is surprised to find he doesn’t mind, looking up at Mingyu with a little smile. Mingyu smiles back right away, warm and bright. His enthusiasm is a lot to face straight on like that, so Jeonghan goes back to looking at Seungkwan as he waits instead. </p><p>The game, as it turns out, isn’t so much a game as an excuse to get sentimental — Jeonghan would have thought Seungkwan got this out of his system when he threw Chan and Soonyoung’s going-away party, but apparently not. Jeonghan guesses a birthday is as good an excuse for it as any. </p><p>He watches with trepidation as Seungkwan’s friends pass the plastic candle around, everyone saying something nice about the person to their left. This isn’t exactly his idea of a fun party game, but everyone goes along with it easily enough. No one says anything particularly deep, but Jeonghan still feels anxious, suddenly regretting his seating choice. Is it too late to move? He could squish himself in between the two girls from Seungkwan’s class — he doesn’t know them at all, they’d just say something bland and get it over with.</p><p>But — no. Mingyu would see it for what it was, probably. He’d be hurt, definitely. </p><p>So Jeonghan doesn’t move, just braces himself when Minghao gets the candle, already wincing in anticipation. </p><p>Minghao’s eyes dart over to him, looking amused, before he starts to speak.</p><p>“Jeonghan-hyung is very kind. He’s someone who’s taken good care of me, and someone I’m very grateful to,” he says, voice serious but not overly emotional. He turns to face Jeonghan fully, smiling at the uncomfortable expression Jeonghan knows he can’t fully cover up. “I won’t embarrass you any more,” he says with a little laugh, and then he fumbles the candle into Jeonghan’s hand. </p><p>Jeonghan takes it without thinking, then freezes as he realizes what it means. </p><p>He’d been so busy thinking about how to deflect whatever Minghao said about him — absolutely nothing incriminating, as it turned out — that he hadn’t even thought to consider what he’s supposed to say about Mingyu.</p><p>It’s worse, because everyone is looking at him with varying degrees of expectation — Seungkwan clearly amused, Minghao a little concerned. </p><p>Hansol doesn’t look like he cares at all, at least, which is a relief.</p><p><i>Just say something</i>, Jeonghan tells himself. Literally anything would be fine. He could say that Mingyu’s tall, that he’s handsome, that his jokes are funny — okay, no. Maybe not that last one. But Mingyu’s smile is fading the longer it takes Jeonghan to come up with something, and now if he just says something stupid he knows Mingyu will be hurt. </p><p>“Mingyu-yah,” Jeonghan starts, already laughing a little in embarrassment. “You already know you’re someone special, right? I’m sorry if I didn’t show you properly before, but I think you’re special, too.”</p><p>He shoves the candle into Mingyu’s hands as soon as the words are out of his mouth, cheeks burning. God. Jeonghan can’t remember the last time something made him this flustered — and at <i>Seungkwan’s birthday party</i>, of all places.</p><p>Mingyu stares at him for a moment longer, eyes wide, before remembering where he is. Jeonghan doesn’t even hear what he manages to stutter out about the person next to him, too distracted by the sound of his own pulse in his ears. He lets himself zone out, trying not to think about anything, until he’s startled by the feel of something cool against the back of his neck. He twists to see Mingyu holding a bottle of water. Jeonghan moves to take it from him, their hands brushing at the transfer.</p><p>The game is over, he realizes — everyone is starting to stand back up. </p><p>“You looked like you needed it,” Mingyu says. Jeonghan grimaces in acknowledgment, nodding.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Mingyu says. Jeonghan pauses mid-drink, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. Sorry about what? “It was awkward earlier,” Mingyu clarifies. Jeonghan swallows, finally, and frowns. </p><p>“Not your fault,” he says immediately. Mingyu shrugs.</p><p>“Still. You shouldn’t have had to make something up.”</p><p>Jeonghan frowns even harder.</p><p>“Yah,” he says, nudging Mingyu’s arm. “Who said I made anything up, huh? What am I, a liar?”</p><p>Mingyu just raises his eyebrows at him in response, which — yeah, whatever. He’s got him on that one. Jeonghan huffs. </p><p>“Okay,” he says, accepting. “But I wasn’t lying <i>then</i>.”</p><p>Mingyu blinks, looking startled.</p><p>“Oh,” he says, not seeming to know what to do with that information.</p><p>“Oh,” Jeonghan echoes, laughing a little. “I meant what I said before, you know,” he adds after a moment. “I’m really thinking about it.”</p><p>Mingyu freezes, looking startled, before a smile breaks onto his face.</p><p>“Oh,” he says again. “That’s nice.”</p><p>Jeonghan rolls his eyes, looking away, but he can’t hide that he’s smiling too. Mingyu gives his shoulder a squeeze before he drifts away, and Jeonghan hunts down Seokmin to bother him for the rest of the night.</p><p>Seungkwan stops Jeonghan before he leaves a few hours later, pulling him forward with bossy hands to give him a brisk hug. </p><p>“I didn’t know you were so close with Myungho,” he says when he pulls back. Jeonghan snorts — typical Seungkwan, always looking for gossip. But upon closer inspection he looks weirdly sincere, eyes round and open, cheeks flushed from the champagne he drank earlier.</p><p>“I am,” Jeonghan says, forcing himself to be honest. “He’s helped me a lot.”</p><p>Seungkwan stares at him, searching. </p><p>“I’m glad,” he says, finally, his serious expression cracking open into a smile. Jeonghan laughs, patting him once on the cheek. </p><p>“Happy Birthday, Seungkwan-ah,” he says. “Do good things this year, okay?”</p><p>Seungkwan nods very seriously — he must really be tipsy, Jeonghan thinks fondly — and lets Jeonghan push him back in Hansol’s direction. Hansol accepts him easily with an arm around his shoulders, nodding to Jeonghan in acknowledgment. Jeonghan watches as Seungkwan reaches up to cup Hansol’s ears with his hands, Hansol letting it happen with a quiet laugh. </p><p>When Jeonghan turns back around Mingyu’s appeared from somewhere, waiting.</p><p>“Let me walk you home,” Mingyu says, a smile on his face, and who is Jeonghan to say no to that?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A week later, at Seungkwan’s apartment again, as the night winds down —</p><p>Jeonghan pats Mingyu’s hand in consolation when Seungkwan teases him for his new haircut, leaves their intertwined hands in Mingyu’s lap afterward.</p><p><i>“I think it looks nice,”</i> he leans forward to murmur, smiling in satisfaction at the way Mingyu swallows, hard.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ten days later, meeting Minghao for drinks after work — </p><p>Jeonghan reaches for Mingyu’s glass instead of his own, drinks out of it while Mingyu watches with an expression torn between insulted and turned on. Jeonghan wipes his mouth when he’s finished and grins. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Three weeks later, at a club for the first time in over a year — </p><p>Jeonghan tugs Mingyu’s arm before he can go back to dancing, pulling him closer instead. </p><p>“Don’t go,” Jeonghan says, a hint of a whine, tilting his head and blinking up at him as beseechingly as he can manage. </p><p>“No?” Mingyu says, his mouth twisting into a smile. Jeonghan shakes his head, still holding his arm tight. </p><p>“No,” he says, and then, emboldened, “I don’t want to share you.”</p><p>Mingyu blinks, and then — </p><p>“Are you jealous?” he laughs, sounding incredulous.</p><p>“You said you liked that,” Jeonghan says, as innocently as he can manage. </p><p>“You can’t be jealous of things that aren’t yours,” Mingyu says carefully, watching for Jeonghan’s reaction. Jeonghan slides his hand over to Mingyu’s chest.</p><p>“Do you want to be?” he says, risking another glance upward. </p><p>Mingyu catches his gaze, doesn’t let him look away. </p><p>“Do I want to be yours?” Mingyu asks, as if there’s anything else Jeonghan could have meant.</p><p>Jeonghan nods, the barest twitch of his head.</p><p>“Is that your answer?” Mingyu asks. He looks so thrilled it makes Jeonghan embarrassed, somehow, to be the cause of it. He can feel his cheeks heating up, has to look away to try to keep his calm. </p><p>“Yes,” he says, finally, taking a deep breath before he looks again. </p><p>Mingyu’s answering smile is blinding.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A month later, Hansol’s birthday this time —</p><p>“Did you guys come here together?” Seungkwan accuses loudly, all eyes turning towards Jeonghan and Mingyu as they walk in the door.</p><p>Mingyu blushes immediately, trying to hide behind Jeonghan like he’s not the tallest person in the room by at least twelve centimetres. </p><p>Jeonghan laughs, just a little bit manic, reaching behind him to pat at Mingyu’s hip.</p><p>“Mind your own business!” he calls back. Seungkwan narrows his eyes but keeps his mouth shut, an expression on his face that says Jeonghan hasn’t heard the end of it. Jeonghan only laughs even harder. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing next Saturday?” Joshua asks when Jeonghan answers his call from under the covers, too cold and tired to poke his head out before he speaks. </p><p>“I don’t know,” Jeonghan says. “Sleeping?”</p><p>“Well, I need you to come pick me up from the airport,” Joshua says, and Jeonghan sits up with a start, the comforter falling away. </p><p>“What?” he says, initial surprise giving way into suspicion. “Yah, Joshua Hong … Is this payback for the time I told you I’d go to L.A. for your birthday? If it’s a joke it isn’t funny.”</p><p>“No,” Joshua laughs. “No, no, I promise it’s real. I’ll forward you the ticket.”</p><p>Jeonghan makes a suspicious sound into the phone, not wanting to get his hopes up even as his heart starts to beat a little faster. </p><p>“It’s real, I swear!” Joshua insists. “Do you want to call my mom and check?” </p><p>“Yes,” Jeonghan says immediately.  “What’s her number? I miss her.”</p><p>“I’ll give it to you when I hang up,” Joshua says, looking fond and exasperated in equal measure. </p><p>Jeonghan wiggles a little, too much excitement and nowhere to put it. </p><p>“If you’re really coming I’ll be there,” he promises. “Seungcheol too, as long as he doesn’t have work.”</p><p>Seungcheol does have work, as it turns out, but he meets the two of them on Sunday for pretentious brunch at a restaurant Joshua said he wanted to try.</p><p>When they’re seated Jeonghan squints at the menu for an extended moment before giving up, flinging it towards Joshua instead. </p><p>“Order for me,” he declares. “I don’t know what any of these words mean.”</p><p>Next to him, Seungcheol lets out a relieved breath, closing his own menu a lot more quietly. </p><p>“Me too?” he asks, blinking big eyes at Joshua until he rolls his eyes and relents. </p><p>“You guys know how to read,” he says, laughing a little, “but sure.”</p><p>Jeonghan smiles sunnily as Joshua orders for the three of them, only correcting him once — he wants apple juice, not orange, obviously. Maybe if Joshua hadn’t abandoned him for America he’d know better. </p><p>“So,” Joshua says, looking at the two of them. “How’s it going?”</p><p>Jeonghan lets Seungcheol launch into an extended breakdown of his life — his work, his parents, his relationship with Jinhee. He’s going to propose soon, which Jeonghan already knew, but it’s still a little weird to hear him say it out loud. </p><p>Jeonghan nods along, smiling, until Joshua turns his focus to him and he blinks, a little alarmed.</p><p>“What?” he asks. Joshua wrinkles his brow in confusion.</p><p>“What do you mean, <i>what</i>,” he says slowly. “What have you been doing?”</p><p>Jeonghan shrugs, uncomfortable at the sudden attention. </p><p>“You know,” he says. “Working.”</p><p>Joshua frowns at the short response, clearly hoping for something more. </p><p>“That’s it?” he presses. “You’re not seeing anybody?”</p><p>“I moved apartments,” Jeonghan says, trying to deflect. “I have a roommate now.”</p><p>“You didn’t tell me that,” Seungcheol pouts. Next to him, Joshua’s eyes narrow in suspicion. </p><p>“Ah, it wasn’t a big deal,” Jeonghan laughs. “It turns out I wasn’t any good at living alone, that’s all.”</p><p>Seungcheol’s eyes are still wide and hurt, so Jeonghan looks away, back to Joshua. Curiosity seems to have overtaken his suspicion, which honestly isn’t much better. </p><p>“How’s that going, then?” he asks. Jeonghan shrugs again. </p><p>“Good,” he says simply. “He’s nice. I met him through a friend.”</p><p>It’s odd, he realizes, that Joshua and Seungcheol don’t know his friends. He calls Joshua fairly often, but they mostly bitch about work — Jeonghan’s never really told him about Mingyu, and he doesn’t even know Minghao exists. Jeonghan hadn’t realized he’d been keeping them so separate, and he feels awkward about it now. </p><p>“You remember Kim Mingyu,” he says, hoping his face isn’t doing anything weird. “It’s a friend of his friend’s. Moon Junhwi.”</p><p>“Ah,” Joshua says, looking interested. Jeonghan laughs, feeling awkward at the attention. </p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “You can drop by and meet him, if you want.”</p><p>Joshua nods thoughtfully in a way that gives absolutely nothing away. Jeonghan narrows his eyes in suspicion. </p><p>“And what about Mingyu, then?” Joshua asks, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Jeonghan takes a sharp breath, nearly choking on his apple juice in the process.</p><p>“What about him?” he asks weakly, not liking the way Seungcheol has perked up next to him, eyes wide and interested.</p><p>“When were you gonna tell us you were dating him?” Joshua presses. Jeonghan does choke, this time, spluttering helplessly as Seungcheol thumps at his back.</p><p>“We’re not — we’re <i>not</i>,” he says weakly. “Who told you that?”</p><p>“I have my sources,” Joshua says. That’s just great — Jeonghan’s gonna have to test his entire friend group for leaks, now. Seungcheol just leans even closer, clearly waiting for what comes next. </p><p>Jeonghan rolls his eyes.</p><p>“He’s gonna come home with me next week,” he admits, staring straight ahead as he says it. “Do <i>not</i> say anything stupid,” he says sharply, turning to Seungcheol.</p><p>“Why are you looking at me like that?” Seungcheol whines immediately, putting his hands up in surrender with a laugh.  </p><p>“It’s not a big deal,” Jeonghan says. “Don’t make it a big deal.”</p><p>“I won’t,” Seungcheol promises, but his eyes still look awfully sparkly — Jeonghan doesn’t trust him at all. “We’re just happy for you, that’s all.”</p><p>The sincerity is too much for Jeonghan, so he turns to look at Joshua instead, only to find — ugh. <i>Joshua</i> is smiling softly at him, pleased and fond.</p><p>“Please stop, both of you,” Jeonghan says, turning back to his abandoned waffles. “You’ll give me acid reflux.”</p><p>“You already have that,” Seungcheol says immediately, and Jeonghan mimes stabbing him with his fork.</p><p>It helps a little to break up sappiness, but the gross warm feeling doesn’t quite fade. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Mingyu charms Jeonghan’s mother at dinner, of course — Jeonghan never had any doubts about that. The meal goes so smoothly Jeonghan has to fight against the urge to sabotage it for no reason, staying so silent that Mingyu looks over to check on him more than once.</p><p>Jeonghan smiles back at him every time, fonder than he is irritated, and somehow that almost makes him feel even more ornery.</p><p>“We’re so old now,” Hyesoo says later, once they’ve all relocated to the living room. “Like … Heo Miyoung is getting married next year. You remember her, right? It doesn’t feel like I’m old enough for my friends to be getting married.”</p><p>“Well, let me know when they start having babies,” Jeonghan says. “We’re branching out to home and bath care now, you know.”</p><p>Hyesoo snorts. </p><p>“Yah,” Jeonghan says with a laugh. “Don’t you want your brother to be successful? What kind of supportive sister are you?”</p><p>“Sure, sure,” Hyesoo says placatingly. Jeonghan narrows his eyes at her, still suspicious, and the moment of silence that settles between them makes him realize that it’s been a while since he left Mingyu with his parents. He looks up sharply, only to find — </p><p>“I can't believe this,” Jeonghan says, observing Mingyu engage in conversation with his father from a safe distance across the room, his mother nowhere to be seen. “Does appa ... <i>like</i> him?”</p><p>Hyesoo follows his gaze, watching the two of them talking for a moment before humming in agreement. </p><p>“Seems like it," she says, not sounding particularly sympathetic.</p><p>"That's impossible," Jeonghan says weakly. "Appa doesn't like anybody."</p><p>He watches, horrified, as his father smiles — no, <i>laughs</i> — at something Mingyu says. Jeonghan has been alive for twenty-eight years and he isn't sure his father has ever laughed at a single one of his jokes. And now he has the nerve to laugh at <i>Mingyu</i>? Despicable. Unforgivable. Jeonghan is scratching himself off the family tree, emotionally.</p><p>"You good?" Hyesoo asks, expression caught somewhere between amusement and concern. </p><p>"<i>No</i>," Jeonghan scowls. Hyesoo doesn't even have the grace to humour him, cackling at whatever she sees on his face.</p><p>Mingyu looks over at the sound, like a dog whose name was called. His eyes find Jeonghan’s immediately and he smiles, bright and guileless. Jeonghan smiles back, elbowing Hyesoo in the ribs. It only makes her laugh harder.</p><p>Mingyu says what Jeonghan assumes is a polite good-bye to his father, then makes his way over to the two of them. </p><p>“Everything okay over here?” he asks, looking amused. </p><p>“Delightful,” Hyesoo beams up at Mingyu, dropping a little pat on his arm before moving away, drifting towards their father and leaving Jeonghan and Mingyu alone.</p><p>“Hi,” Mingyu says, smiling down at Jeonghan. He looks good — hair perfectly styled, wavy and soft-looking. Big sparkly eyes, sweet voice, polite as hell — he’s every mother’s dream son-in-law. It makes Jeonghan want to bite him.</p><p>“Did you have fun with my dad?” Jeonghan says, wincing as soon as he realizes how that sounds. Mingyu snorts.</p><p>“Not like that,” he says, and Jeonghan elbows him.</p><p>“You know what I meant,” he whines. Mingyu thinks about it, then shrugs. Jeonghan squints at him, confused, and makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat. </p><p>“He’s kind of boring, right?” Mingyu says, voice hushed like he saying something forbidden. </p><p>For a moment Jeonghan only stares. </p><p>“Sorry,” Mingyu laughs sheepishly, clearly misreading Jeonghan’s silence. “I know he’s your dad.” </p><p>“No,” Jeonghan croaks. He coughs to clear his throat, smiling. “You’re fine. You’re right.”</p><p>“I like being here with you better,” Mingyu says. It’s smooth like a line, but his face is earnest as anything when he says it. Jeonghan wants to make fun of him for it, but it’s the end of the day and he’s tired, and Mingyu’s shoulder is warm and welcoming to lean on. </p><p>“I like being with you too,” Jeonghan says, quiet like a secret. It’s obviously not — his entire family can see them. Bringing Mingyu here in the first place was loud on its own. “Don’t tell anyone,” he adds anyway, just to say it. </p><p>Mingyu laughs agreeably, like he already knows — and maybe he does, Jeonghan thinks, as Mingyu’s arm comes up to rest on his shoulders, pulling him a little closer.</p><p>“Jeonghan-ah,” his mother calls, and Jeonghan looks up, startled. “Do you need a ride home?”</p><p>“It’s okay, eomonim,” Mingyu says, squeezing Jeonghan’s shoulders a little. “I’ll take him.”</p><p>Jeonghan’s mother smiles warmly, so much fondness in her expression even though she and Mingyu only just met. </p><p>“What a charming young man,” she says, and Jeonghan can literally <i>feel</i> Mingyu start to preen. He snorts a little, but doesn’t raise his head. “Hold onto him!” his mother says, pointing a finger at him directly. </p><p>“Got it,” Jeonghan says sleepily, shifting a little against Mingyu’s shoulder. </p><p>“Come on,” Mingyu says with a little laugh, jostling Jeonghan until he moves his head to stand up straight. “Let’s get you home.”</p><p>Jeonghan smiles, letting Mingyu guide him to say goodbye to his father, shrugging into his coat easily and walking out into the cold night. </p><p>“Your dad really is nice,” Mingyu says on the way to the train station. “I didn’t mean he wasn’t.”</p><p>“Ah, Mingyu-yah,” Jeonghan laughs. “Do you really feel bad about that?”</p><p>Mingyu pouts a little, but he eases up when Jeonghan grabs his arm, pulling him so they’re snuggled close as they walk. </p><p>“Your whole family is nice,” he says, after a moment. “Thank you for taking me to meet them.”</p><p>“So formal,” Jeonghan says, but he can’t deny how pleased the words make him feel. “Thank you for making a good impression,” he adds, to make sure Mingyu knows he’s grateful.</p><p>“Of course,” Mingyu chirps, reaching over to squeeze Jeonghan’s hand with his free one before he lets it drop again. </p><p>They pause to wait for the streetlight to change, the night air still around them. </p><p>“Ah, it’s cold,” Jeonghan whines quietly, pushing even closer. </p><p>“We’ll be home soon,” Mingyu says. “I’ll keep you warm.”</p><p>Jeonghan doesn’t say anything when Mingyu follows him all the way back to his apartment, even though Mingyu’s own is two stops earlier. </p><p>At the building entrance Mingyu stops, pulling back as though to say good-bye. Jeonghan reaches for his arm again, doesn’t let him go. </p><p>“Come on,” he says. “Aren’t you going to come up? You said you’d keep me warm.”</p><p>Mingyu smiles, and follows him inside.<br/><br/></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you to nic for all of the advice and support! and thank you to kim for the extremely important advice re: jeonghan's chosen career path ♡ </p><p>title is (loosely) from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoOiWFT0dVE">this</a> song / you can come say hi on <a href="https://twitter.com/springnotspring">twt</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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